Conversations and I

Writing after a break, a break which I hope help me to redefine my writing, meaning that I want my words to have and to understand the limits this writing, which is a conversation to myself and with few others has. I keep no hope that somebody will understand what these words and the one who writes this mean or don’t mean. I write because it is becoming impossible to do anything except this writing at this point of time.
Why do I converse? Why do I need or feel like spending my time with someone else when i know that it is just me who actually lives. And, then I pose this question in greater dimension to existence of society around me. The one essential aspect of any conversation, relation or social exchange is giving up something of your own or something which you desired little bit less than what you have gained from that exchange, relation or conversation. There is loss of free and completely own action when one indulges in any interaction. However rude it may seem, a person with good amount of neutral thinking ability will realise that we weigh this in our mind and then decide to go ahead with interaction. Even if such comparison is not evident, a person cannot remain in interaction completely. At some point, one feels boredom, see something important that that interaction or seeks to have change. That change may lead to another interaction or solitude. It seems that we do not accept it easily. We try to eternalise our interactions, sketch them in ultra-human manner and project them beyond human and space-time limitations. This counterfactual observation can vindicate earlier claim of mine that we compare.
On broad sense, people seem to use ‘societal structures’ as risk lowering instruments. Poor people seem more social. As wealth status upgrades, families become self-centric. As this status upgrades even more, family members try to seek their own spheres. To feel it, visit slums and then any metropolitan apartment. A counterargument can be rich or well off have interactions which might not be evident or obvious. But, then most of these interactions are purpose driven or contact making. A poor who faces grave difficulties of subsistence, failures and frustrations seek societal interaction to support emotional losses. By seeing others who face similar or worse situations, he finds some interest in his struggle or continuous problem solving. It is need based largely.
I sometimes wonder why government seems to be essential. Or in general, why large social structures come into existence? It is really a social contract. I see that by altering my free actions to some extent, I am able to generate kind of insurance. Not much of the time we like to obey rules. We accept some inconvenience to get some ‘secured returns’. We are able to cover some fearful uncertainty by accepting the contract. But, when these social structures ask me to curtail my actions for some coverage of uncertainty which is not fearful for me, I hesitate to commit. Our social commitments or concerns are function of our social status.
I understand that what I have written above is not theorem but a statistical fact. There are exceptions and they help to generalise.
There is something else which I think can take someone to interaction with other person. I often find most of my ideas or explanations when I talk with someone. I see my own reflections in my conversations. I find my own unseen regions when I converse. Here, I must say that I do not listen to other person very well. I like to flow uninterrupted. I talk with myself, even when there is someone else who is listening to me.
These words have kind of pains structured in them. After writing, I hate myself sometimes. I might be adding something to pool of knowledge, I do not know and sometimes I do not care. I want to be disconnected with whatever I have written. I want to see it as an observer. They should be so perfect that there need not be anything further.
I get tired. I like to forget my existence once I write. I like to throw myself into something wild and thoughtless pleasure activity.
Incompleteness keeps these words away from expressing exactness. I know it. That is why I go indifferent in writing or not writing.
I understand that I cannot share myself completely and at the same time, I think how I know if there is anyone of this kind unless I seek for it.
Happiness is real when one feels it. One feels it and should learn to share it with oneself. I haven’t learned it yet.