To have someone to seek you, to find you, to ask you..
'how are you?'
To be left alone.
Who do you want to call out to? Your family? Is there any progeny it it?
Perhaps. A meeting through them with someone they know.
Oh Isolation. Your voice is gone. Oh mother voice. Mother me. Love me.
I am smothered by the absence. I wish I felt wanted. I wish I felt like I belonged. I wish I felt desired.
I wish. I am tired now, drunk on wine, a muscle in my back aches.
It is nice out, but my heart bleeds inside. Woe, the approaching days of torment. To see her, to hear her, to want, to never know her again.
Woe, desire. Another. To court. Oh the futility of it all! A breast to love all the days of my life, starting one day, and lasting for eternity, only to have her flee.
Am I so monstrous? My feelings, are they so frightening? My desires. Do I lack? Am I not complete?
Perhaps rest will be able to restore my good humor. Here, and now I am comfortable. Dying alone. Accepting such a fate brings sorrow.
Where is there joy? In my mind. I create joy for myself. It is in myself I find joy. Having another to share it with is secondary.
I am wrought with passion. To desire, to long, to want, to be unable to hold another, to be unable to attract another, to be unwilling to venture beyond the gate of my dwelling and lure another in.
Impossible, I can not believe it. However, I must. Out of necessity. I am driven. Hard wired to procreate. I'm not sure what the problem is. If I only new, then I could begin working on a solution.
Maybe it is just that I need rest, and the world needs a rest from me. Perhaps an eternal rest from each other, I do not know. I will however begin. I will feel my soul, and free my woe from it. The pain, the suffering. And in it's absence, joy and happiness will persist. Worry will subside, and the pleasure of each moment will relish in my being.
I belong. I am. Here and now.
