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Loneliness prevails! I would much rather live purely in solitude for ever and ever than waste another precious second in the presence of someone who has little skin in the game of knowing me or seeing me. Hearing me! I wonder why you keep me around if all your hearts desire is to hear the sound of your own voice. It makes no difference if it’s me or anyone for that matter. For all you know or even care I am merely an ottoman for you to rest your feet on, or a coffee table meant simply to pedestal your various notebook scrawlings and half-read books. I am a file cabinet. I have it here, dated, what you Thought and what you felt about work, or about your friends. ask me, I have it all. And I loved it. I loved knowing you. I wanted to. I investigated and interrogated. I poured over it all with great curiosity, praying for all my red threads to weave a tapestry of you. but I can’t remember the last time you asked me something about myself. When the opportunity arises, and god forbid, I Take it, you can barely hold your breath. Its like a shark sensing blood. You just can’t wait to talk talk talk talk talk. But hey, it’s your life, and baby, I’m just living in it.
Dec 10, 2024

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I often find myself at constant battle with my brain and self. Its a constant reoccurring thing when I find myself in a new setting, surrounded by new people, a new experience overall. I know that my emotions shouldn't be hard to regulate, so why are they? In a sense it may be hormonal, but it doesn't explain how it makes be feel small, the squeeze of my heart when I sense a change of tone, or the urge to question everything. It is tiring, the need to make sure dozens of times I'm not hated or people are just being kind out of pity. I'm aware that the world must be constantly spinning and it harbors no love for a single individual, but god does the feeling of being lonely and not vied for constantly make me feel alien. Some moments I feel like a saint for being welcomed while others make me feel like a devil for even feeling anything negative. What is the use of being somewhere if you are to be forgotten? Maybe I'm vain, a coward, or both. I don't necessarily need validation yet I want it. I wish to be cradled, spoiled if you will and told that yes, I am totally correct in the way others view me and vice versa. But alas, that's not the way to cookie crumbles. The world as I stated previously does not harbor love for a single individual and will keep spinning, and in turn it is your job to keep up. To stay behind or move forward is your choice. One second it may seem as the world stops just for you, only to pick up again in it's fast pace momentarily after. Sometimes I feel guilty for feeling foreign where I should be at home, but doesn't everyone from time to time?
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For someone who claims to identify so closely with solitude, uncovering just how tethered I was to the emotions of people I love was a crispy realization. Of course, that attachment is the basis for any kind of relationship. You cannot claim to “have someone” in your life if you do not feel some kind of emotional connection towards them. The stronger the connection, the stronger the relationship. We all know this. However, there is something to be said about a relationship that is “too good”; a bond so strong due to its shocking lack of tension. In hindsight of various broken and fragmented connections I’ve been apart of, any relationship that exists while remaining entirely unscathed now kind of terrifies me. I believe there can be such a thing as “too much love”, and I think those who have given or received it know when they have done so. It’s a mistake anyone is capable of making. Imagine a relationship so polished, free from any erosion (visible or otherwise); seemingly perfect. This type of connection can only be established through a building of trust and an abundance of time. However, I’ve come to learn that the more impeccable bonds tend to break easy when faced with their first real blow. Birds only crash into the cleanest of glass. *"If music be the food of love, play on; / Give me excess of it...*" I don’t want excess. For the food of love, I am no glutton. I eat until I am full and push my plate aside. I used to love like my life depended on it. I put those people whom I adored on the highest of pedestals, framed them in my gallery and admired new details every time we shared a visit. Maybe I just hadn’t been wronged enough to ever think that I could be wounded by those I dote on so heavily. What is it with loving and being loved that makes feeling hurt seem so impossible? Why must love shatter all preconceived expectations of what emotion is? Is love really so massive, so gargantuan that it conquers all other feeling? Yes, and no. At least that’s what I think. This is all just what I think. I don’t want to come across as some great romantic or lovesick puppy or old friend. I’m just trying to figure out the right way to love, like everyone else.
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I’m alone. I’m alone forever. I am the loneliest person to ever exist. I gave myself that title. Sometimes I wear it proudly. Sometimes it breaks my heart. I am missing something and I don’t know what it is. Maybe I never will. I am looking for something that takes my breath away.
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