I used to not much like it. But still, it never was too frightening for me. I mean, it was ok if I had to live like that for a short-term. Not a big deal. Yes, short term. There should be a not-too-far, an end date. I equated it, a prolonged one, with a painful psychological torture which when undergone could lead me to madness. I mean, in that case, I would imagine me lying on my couch, scratching my ragged beard with no sleep to sleep or no thought to think. A swarm of water bottles and cans popping all over the carpet and that humiliating ‘Are you still watching?’ message on Netflix, when you look at the TV noticing that it's been silent for a while. Unappealing to say the least – isn’t it? By now you might have guessed probably, I am talking about solitude or staying alone. However, having lived it for some time now without meeting my pre-condition of visible end-date, I have a changed perception. It doesn’t suck all together. I mean yes, it is not the ideal way to live pro...