I feel so broken these days. They say life would be empty without the presence of other people, but it seems to me the only reason we tend to suffer so much is because of others. People. Most of us are so warped up inside our own heads - and yes, that's not just me - that we grow into chronic, self-centred selfishness personified.

Add to that the appeal of materiality, that of striving towards amassing always more - money, goods, food, a higher status, etc... and when I look around all I see is the equivalent of a parched desert no matter how much the lights of the city may glitter in the night.

So I have no heart, or rather it is the size of a tiny prune - but in a world that is itself unable to grow the true capacity for love, how could I ever learn?

I'm actually starting to suspect I do have a heart - and it is big. And that's because it's big in the middle of a desert that it hurts so much.

I went to meet my friend last night. We don't get to see each other that often anymore... More often than not she sticks with her family when she's not working long hours. She's picked up the bad habit of running late all the time, and it's something I see with a lot of other people as well. They just lose their ability to be punctual. I haven't, so it always strikes me as odd to see that so many people just don't care enough to be on time anymore.

I'd just left the house and was on my way to the bus stop when I received her first text, saying she would be 15 minutes late. I shrugged, I wasn't in a hurry. I arrived at our rendez-vous point five minutes earlier, so I took a stroll down the busy street, gazing at the shop windows with a vacant look about me. It took another 20 minutes before she finally arrived, and at that point I wondered if it wasn't her way of making me understand she doesn't care about me. I refused to let the sour thought get the better of me - she is one of very few friends I have at all, and I found myself thinking: "I don't care how long you make me wait, I don't care that it's raining and cold, I don't care that I have to wait. Just come."

Finally, she arrived - dazzling and full of life. What a beautiful friend I have, I thought for a second, so at ease in the world... when did that happen? "We're drifting apart..." The thought struck me like a wrecking ball at once.

As we sat inside a lively Brazilian bar with some fancy cocktails, we had much to discuss. We hadn't seen each other in a month, and in that month I'd gone away to Asia, and she wanted to know everything about it, so I did most of the talking for a while. I asked her for some worldly, practical advice about my job, knowing that she was far more knowledgeable within the realm of social conduct than I could ever dream to be. At some point I even took notes of what she was advising me to say in particular situations. To my surprise, she didn't find it odd, and even when I grumbled: "Look at me, so clueless," she shook her head and replied: "You're not clueless, Aliska."

Aren't I? I need to take notes from more socially aware people to know what or how I'm supposed to react.

My problem is that I'm the avoidant type, as a direct result of past traumas in life. I avoid confrontation like the plague, remaining 'nice' and 'fair' instead. But here's what I've learned about most people in this world: they may be adults, but you have to treat them the same way a parent needs to discipline their kids. Tough love, so to speak. Unless you treat adults around you with a firm hand, they will push their luck and try hard to dominate or take advantage of you just like CHILDREN.

Who are the kids and who are the adults in this world? What does 'adult' even mean? At least with children you still get raw honesty, which is something that disappears swiftly with most people as they grow older. The skills they seem to replace honesty with would be the art of scheming and hypocrisy - for a profit. Always for a profit.

Anyway... I can feel that I've entered a new phase in my existence, one that's going to last quite a few years - renewed social isolation and alienation. Solitude.