Ok. An existential question has come up. What is a loner? Are there grades of lonliness. I know this is silly. But in the heights of loneliness (or is it the depths) the whiteness of winter appeals more to me. There are less lonely times, when I don't mind the good things of this world. You know, stuff like flowers and birds and all that. Not that I have anything against flowers, mind you. It is just that at times, I wonder what all this is for. Am I an exile? Sure I am. Marooned in middle of humanity. Am I proud of that? No way. I wish I could be like others. Have frends, retain friendships. But there is some kind of wall around me which I cannot see, cannot penetrate. Some kind of invisble sea all around me, keeping me forever on my ittle island. Do I have anything against the guys who can enjoy the company of others. No. I watch them and I tell them, in my mind, they are lucky. Even if they don't always realize they are lucky. Loneliness of the soul. Loss of all faith. What ...
The ravings of a maniac. A fusion of fears, mythical and current.