A loner's Ravings

I could feel the cold embrace. The silence of the utter darkness. I was helpless. And yet I did not want to be free. The zero G sinking has a fatal charm.

A comment to the previous post on this blog asks a good question. Can loners' hope? It isn't phrased quite like that. But I suppose that is what it meant. That made me think, you know. Like I did when I realized I am a loner. Maybe it is all about neurochemistry. But the fact remains that loners are a group apart. Some are born loners, some become loners, others have lonerhood thrust upon them (Now, who said that first !). I belong to the first category. Born loner. I cannot remember any time in my life when I felt part of the human tribe. I don't mean I do not aprreciate humans. In fact I like them. My problems is that I cannot feel part of the crowd. Sore thumb kind of situation. For my kind of loners hope has no place. There never was any in the first place. For the other two kinds, I suppose hope is a reasonable remedy. It could keep you going. So go right ahead and hope. After all things cannot get any worse can they!

Once a loner always a loner. I am learning that the hard way. The last month has been so stressful, I didn't think I would make it to this blog again. The fun part is, being a loner, I have not a soul on this planet I can share this with. May be they will discover life on Ganymede. (Mars is too close for my liking). Till then, my dear blog, share this cross with me. I am not sure how much longer I can take this. I am not forgetting my friends in blogdom. Rain, in particular. Thanks for all your kind words. I have been through this earlier, maybe I will make it through again. Oddly, Loners tend to be rather resilient.

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.

The sense of death stalking you in utter silence is the most unnerving of all fears. When you realize that your fears are indeed true, the starkness of life hits you right in your soul. The meaning of a measly life. The meaning of a miserable death. Why does it have to be like this. No. This is not a protest. You don't protest with the dark and silent reaper.

Face to face with death is when your courage is tested down to the last nut and bolt. She was a brave lady. Fought cancer for three fearsome years, endured all the pain of secondaries in the bone, lungs and finally liver and brain. And the horrors of chemotherapy. She never once complained, or whined (the way I do). That lovely face with the hint of a smile even in the desolate stillness of death after a life that never had anything good for her from childhood makes me feel like a worm. She had no complaints. No grudges. No ill feelings towards the people who had hurt her so deeply. We will miss you. You have left us feeling that the world which produced a person like you cannot be all that bad. Goodbye for now. I am sure we will meet again.

I haunt my favorite location rather frequently these days. The sonorous breath of the deep water fills my soul with an ancient longing. I see myself in you, my dark, deep and silent. friend.