The loneliest person in the world isn’t sitting on top a mountain somewhere in complete isolation. The loneliest person is surrounded by people who don’t understand them.
I’m not the most complex individual, but sometimes I feel like life is a movie and I’m merely an observer. I haven’t yet found where I belong. One day the mothership is going to descend from the sky, beam me up inside and reveal what I somehow always knew to be true. You’re beyond mortal flesh, beyond skin colour, beyond earthly desires, the daily workings of your social construct, the cultures of the human race.
You are free. A sentient energy unbridled by any construct, any illusion or lie.
Seeing as that has yet to happen, I shall continue to play my part. The part of the lower middle class female, caucasian, university student. A tax file number, a street address, a mobile phone number, a birth certificate, a passport, a driver’s license, a registered vehicle. I have friends and family, pets, people who love me, but nothing is more affecting than an individual’s crusade. No-one can get inside this mind.
The loneliest person on this planet is surrounded by those who do not understand them.
It’s not a simple solution. A person in your life is not the answer to all the crises of living in this state of mind. It would only be a very, very good distraction. It’s even possible to be distracted for the rest of this life. But is it the solution I seek?
“I’ll do it tomorrow.” Is my perpetual answer.