In recluse...

I feel like such a recluse. I live in a town of 50,000. My journey back home is through farmlands and fields. There are cows and sheep and goats and the hills in the distance. The stars are visible at night and I feel tempted to count them. I keep going till I lose count, lying in the comfort of my balcony wishing I had a hammock. I'm getting used to this. I'm starting to prefer the quietness of this town compared to the chaos of the city. I've barely begun my life and I want to retire. I want to run away and live deep in the Himalayas, solitary. Life was not meant to be this complicated. I crave simplicity, a moment to pause and think. But I wonder if I could live without all I have come to take for granted: hot water, Internet, phone, ... I don't even have religious motivation to carry me through the lack of these things. But living here, I'm beginning to think that perhaps I could do it. I could run away to Nepal and spend the rest of my days as a recluse...

And so the years went by
Within my rocky cell
With only a mouse or bird
My friends, I loved them well.