March 19th

I used to sonder a lot.

I don’t sonder anymore.

(sonder — n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own — populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness — an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.)

It usually happened in the evening or early night. When all the contours get hazy and watercolor like (or that could have been my glasses). Watching people go by walking, people in the cars, on the buses. I wondered — who are they? where are they going? what do they think? what do they do?

Recently I realized that I don’t care. I don’t care about other people. I don’t wish the majority of people any particular harm. Let them do whatever, as long as they don’t bother me. Being me, thinking about me, working on me is enough. Cannot worry and wonder about others and their “feelings” and “ambitions” and “thoughts”. Don’t give a fuck.

I feel arrogant like that since I got sober. I guess this is the real me. An arrogant son of the bitch. What a surprise, can’t blame it on the drink now, can I? What I can blame is English, the language I mean.

When I write, talk and think in English I am a different person. I am more self assure, full of myself, disdainful towards others, yeah — arrogant and I don’t care. I can see it clearly when compared to speaking Polish at work. Like two different people.

I like that English speaking, not letting you finish your sentence, full of shit, “what ya want motherfucker” version of me. I like it a lot.