I'm sitting here in my new office room, waiting for prayer time before I head home, accompanied by soft songs from my laptop, and I just remembered something that was one of my initial reasons not to move into the room in the first place: the apparent solitariness of it.
With only the desk lamp on, the tunes, and a window overlooking the nearby buildings, it just suddenly struck me. This place is but a small window from the world outside, and I don't think I'll ever be able to pick out which window is mine if I looked at the building from the street. I am resisting the cliche urge to sit on the table next to the window and just watch the sunlight drain from the city, replaced by hundreds of small specks of light here and there. But I do lean over and look; the over-priced apartment building next to my office building, the unfinished (and never will be) hotel building behind it; the cars and buses, the pedestrian crossing bridge, the ubiquitous garbage....
I recall something I heard somewhere; I think it was a movie, but I'm not sure what: It gets very lonely at the top.
I just realized what such change the move into this room has; other than the obvious step forward in my career, but also a slight shift in everything else: a new perspective, a new outlook on reality, a new energy. But also, the realization that despite my desires otherwise, sometimes a moment just can't be shared. Sometimes that's a good thing, but right now, I felt I had to share my thoughts of this minute.
I need to share. I guess that's why I have a blog.