I look around myself. Hey, where have they all gone? The friends, the people who could bring a smile or even a tear to my eye, Nothing remains but an ache and an eternal yearning in the soul. Age is weird. So many billions of years behind you and so many billions ahead, with an interruption of how long? half a century, one century? Things don't make any sense, same as in a meaningless charade.
Pondering on the reason for one's existence is hardly the sort of thing one ought to be doing these days. But, there being nothing really worthwhile about life, about being alive, or even about feeling alive, this is just the kind of futile occupation that appeals to loner's of my sort. So here I am, by my favourite watering hole, listening to the silence of eons. Maybe I am weird, like some nice people have kindly pointed out. What they have not been able to point out though, is the reason for my weirdness or anybody elses weirdness. I guess, sitting by all by oneself, by the side of a sullen lake is weird. Fine. So I am a weird loner. Thank you very much. That is what loners are ! Anyway, I haven't posted anything at all for a long time. Even my best friends seem to have given up on me. It is tough being a loner. It is tougher being a weird loner.
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