After 2 months of living in the most beautiful, sunny city, there was no doubt that I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Everything seemed perfect for me until one day in Bangkok. I had decided to embark on an informational detox, a practice I wanted to revisit. However, I soon noticed that it was physically challenging for me this time around.

Initially, I blamed social networks and the dopamine-driven carousel system, for which Zuckerberg seemed to generously distribute tickets. But then, it dawned on me that platforms like WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok offered more than just mindless entertainment, meme-filled feeds, and an endless supply of information. They also provided access to a treasure trove of connections – the daily routines of friends, their emotions, profound feelings, and the chance to share my own story with them.

By opting out of this system, I felt as though I was pulling away from everyone else. I remained alone with my inner loneliness and the inability to share my emotions and experiences with the cherished people in my life. It was terrifying to realize this, yet it also served as a powerful revelation – I truly feel unhappy when I cannot share my emotions with my loved ones. Unfortunately, this newfound realization didn't alleviate my loneliness.

Breaking out of my usual 5/2 routine, I decided to break the usual rhythm of life by driving off to a new city on Thursday. It was already a psychologically difficult decision for me because I needed to focus on work and not be distracted by anything.

However, everything turned out to be less scary and more exhilarating. Thursday was wonderful. I was busy with work and solving questions, and everyone needed me, and I felt important in that moment. On Friday, I took the day off to explore Bangkok, visit the "hot spots," and try new things. Unlike other days, I didn't have to work or make urgent decisions. I could simply relax and have fun.

But unfortunately, there was no one around to share my excitement about the stunning view of Rama 9, the intricately carved Fa bird statues on each temple, or to listen to me complain about the blisters on the back of my feet caused by walking too much. I felt a sense of solitude.

I felt like crying when the monk tied the yellow thread around my arm. As I climbed the steps of Wat Arun and made my way through the noisy crowd in Chinatown, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to cry persisted. How is it possible to feel so alone in a city with a population of 5 million?Isn't this what I had desired?

Traveling, experiencing unique architecture, trying unfamiliar foods, and meeting new individuals from diverse cultures. Wasn't it all supposed to feel novel? However, in reality, meeting new people seemed like an exhausting endeavor. Chance encounters rarely brought any joy, and the allure of food and architecture diminished without anyone to share them with.I vividly recall my time living in Sharm at the age of 15. I was captivated by the idea of learning new things and connecting with people from various corners of the globe. It was simply marvelous and exciting.

But after six months, these superficial encounters started to sicken me. People became indistinguishable, following the same patterns, goals, words, and thoughts, forming a homogenous mass that repelled me.

So now, I am staying in a wonderful and friendly hostel, where I immediately met a diverse group of young travelers who are filled with a sense of adventure and are embracing life. However, life itself is not just about a monthly alcohol trip to Asia.

Life is so much more than that.Life is about little joys like sipping your favorite morning tea with sugar and enjoying fresh flatbread with kaymak. It's about dealing with dental problems and the outrageous prices for dentistry. It's about struggling to find ways to celebrate others at home or finding your way around the city center.

It's about receiving a surprise bouquet at work, even if it's not as extravagant as you would prefer. Life is also about being ecstatic that you have refinanced your loans and can now take your wife to the theater. It's the anticipation of receiving your favorite brand of yarn and eagerly waiting for the work week to end so that you can sit down at your knitting machine. It's the frustration of not knowing how to fit in time to read programming books, learn English and Arabic, cook meals, start a scarf business, and troubleshoot computer problems.

Thank you for taking the time to read my stories! I genuinely hope they aid in your self-discovery and provide a deeper understanding of the world.