The title of this man was borrowed from the book Honjok – The art of living well aloneWritten by Franci Healy and Crystal Tae, which was edited in Portugal by passing. Hongk This means in the Korean something like a “one tribe”. The common word of 2017 to describe an increasingly frequent phenomenon throughout the Western world: the increasing number of people who are not looking for traditional family models and find pleasure in living alone. Millions of people who embrace loneliness are not as a lock but as an option. It gives some comfort to know that I am not alone.
It is one of the questions that one person hears often: Why are you alone? As if life does not make sense unless it is shared 24 hours a day, and seven days a week, with another person. I never know what to answer. They may expect a very simplified answer. “Maybe he Playboy.“Maybe your heart is broken.“Maybe you are afraid of commitment.“It may be a little bit. Or maybe nothing of that. But there is one thing I know: when I look at friends and knowledge that dates back or married, especially those who have children, I do not want their lives. I do not envy them. I don’t feel happier than me.
I have five beautiful children. If any repentance or harm to me, this does not spend more time like them: three live near Porto and two in Rotterdam, the Netherlands. I love you, I think I am uncle amazingBut I never wanted to be a father and it is very likely that he will never be. Perhaps in the future change ideas. Or maybe we regret it. “One day you will feel alone and you will not have those who can take care of you,” sometimes. I am not thinking about it, unlike my brother Paulo, who cares about the elderly. “It is good to take care of your trumpet,” he repeats my nephew Gunsalo, usually after taking him to one of those beautiful restaurants he loves so much. With luck, it may be out. With a lot of reporting to the extent that the child was 11 years old, it is really good that you do not leave me.
I am writing this drawing at the end of the afternoon spring and silence here in the house pure. I can write comfort because I will not have to get children to sports. I will not have to shower them, prepare their dinner, put them in bed, and when you have some time for me, you fall asleep on the sofa in the middle of the chain. I will not have to wake up in the middle of the night because of some children who need to eat. I can wake up late because I am not forced to take off to school. Do not offend my understanding: I think there is no greater love than the person he has and receives from a child, I see him in the eyes of my brothers and friends, but I know that this is not what I want for me. There will be those who think I am selfish, but it is only a little. There is nothing more important than feeling satisfied with our skin, and living according to what we think. Happiness often in small things. How to enjoy silence and writing in calm. “Without feeling great loneliness, there will be no serious work possible,” said Picasso.
The last time I lived with another person was 20 years ago. She was a high school girlfriend, and when she wanted us to get married, we ended up. “Do you know what you need? Do you really need to be celibate.” Although he may have taken your words far, it was the reason. To be single taught me a lot about me and learn more about women. I fell in love several times, I left in two halves, but I was always going back to where I was happier: a tribe. This tribe, which is most time the tribe of one man.
At the age of thirty, he could go out with a different woman every day, collect bodies and experiences, and find contentment – but also empty – in these informal meetings. Today, in 45 years, there is no same energy, not to mention the same patience, to meet new people. I was not a hermit, on the contrary: several times a week, I spend time and dinner with the widest tribe. This is because I always have my friends very soon and so available that I feel the need to risk a boring or slight stimulus. It deserves a lot of laughter and confessions among friends more than another poster in the stamp book that we collect with all new date.
Not everything is roses, of course. The most boring part of being celibate is having to bear the friends who arrange themselves in the fabrication makers or, full of goodwill, they feel that they need to open our eyes to save us from eternal unity. “The more you come out with a friend, the more you can meet someone. People think you are committed,” I often hear more than desirable. Perhaps I can go out more than my comfort area. Maybe you can wear less occasional clothes. You have a more modern haircut. Make more sports. Take me more. Maybe I am not.
Whenever I hear things like this, the more I return to the words of the Egyptian writer Albert Kossry: “I never wanted to be anything but to be myself. I can walk on my pockets and feel the prince.”
The author writes, according to the 1990 spelling agreement
