I’m not ‘anti-social’ by nature, though there are times like today when I wish I could just be alone, and not have to deal with people. My job demands interaction. (Being in a customer service call center and all…) Who do I interact with the most? The stupid, ignorant and just plain jerks. You can shrug them off for the most part, but sometimes there are days, again like today, when it just gets to you that there are so many people out there who couldn’t solve a simple math problem to save their lives.
There’s also that nagging feeling you’re alone. (No, not that, “I’m depressed and nobody loves me” alone.) It’s the kind of ‘alone’ where you realize that you’re surrounded by people who couldn’t possibly begin to understand how you think. They call you ‘weird, strange, or abnormal,’ because in their boxed-in life, they have never experienced anything that’s not on any given network television show.
(OK, so maybe that does sound a bit depressed. I’ve been craving chocolate, so maybe it’s just that special time of the month for me?)
I guess a big reason why you won’t see me interacting with people on a regular basis, is the simple fact that people, in general, can be very much only interested in themselves. It’s very rare indeed to be in a setting where everyone is there for reasons outside of their wants and covets.
OK, enough rambling from me for one day 
Now, I’m not a poem guy. But I read this in a book on journaling. Think you might like.
“I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud”
by William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils
You know, I actually like that poem myself