alone

the days grow longer. clouds gather sometimes, and the wind blows. faces are everywhere, each one of them cares, yet none have cured the pain which eats away at our hearts. routines are all that seem to be evident. the only familiarity is the understanding that you are alone.

maybe it's depression. maybe it's only seasonal. maybe it really is life circumstances, ironic they always seem to fall one upon the other to compile this great mass which weighs heavily upon my chest.

almost once a year i feel that i experience what so many others feel throughout life. i've determined it must be one of the most common feelings amongst living beings today. this of course is the feeling of alone. separation. isolation.

this could be rational for how we live our lives. or maybe we have just become more desperate for human contact. for anyone to listen. we will almost go to near death extents just for someone to see us. to pay attention. to notice. we have so many internet tools to make this possible, take twitter for instance. i have a friend on twitter who i sometimes get tired of reading home much crap they post, as if someone really wants to know or cares about what they think all day. sure it's fun to post and tell miscellaneous people all across the world what you're doing or what you thought about such and such, but is this not just another filler to make us believe that someone somewhere cares? there are millions of examples, but yet does it really mean we are understood? and if we were truly understood, would we no longer feel alone? or would our definition and understanding of alone simply change and become more complex. constantly evolving to where no simple response can break the complexity of what it is to feel alone? because sometimes maybe it feels nice to believe that no one understands. then we might be unique, original, or important due to this lack of relation which is really nothing more than feeling alone.

alone is interesting in that no matter how much we mess everything up, no matter how great we have done, there is always a place of comfort in knowing there is no comfort. or at least we can block any such comfort. we can toss away everything we thought we wanted for whatever reason, and wander the streets alone. but still there is the pain. standing amidst so many people, none of whom really know you (or at least this is what you have convinced yourself), surrounded yet alone. feeling more alone than ever. there is such defeat yet so much comfort in feeling alone.