CORNWELL
Never felt that lonely in so long. Really lonely. I am home alone. Room alone. Empty house. Everyone is gone somewhere. Do not know where. There is a deep sadness that is filling the house. Not sure from what. But I feel it. Feel that everyone is sad. If not sad, then heavy. Lots of wishes and dreams that are not fuilfilled or waiting for. Everyone is taking a road to partially do it. Or just ignoring it. Living day-by-day. Weekends come and you are the only one hating it. You will not be doing anything special. Becomes a reminder of your loneliness. Of your boredom. Boring life to some extent. A life with no particular purpose that you look forward to. You go wonder. From one place to another. Few friends to connect to. Everyone sinking in his own life. Happy or sad. Floating or agnoized. A life of some sort.
She is in Alex hunting for her pleasure that she can not find. Not sure if she is happy. But she has lots of things to be happy with, yet, insisting to deny them all and search for something else. Puzzling me. Resist her. Pressures me with her expectation. I have fun with her. Meet only when I want and can. I have to be in the mood for her. Not sure what she does to me. Just that she triggers me to thinking of how forever some people will remain lost if they did not find peace inside. Will never recognize their many blessings. Envious. How love, harmony and understanding between married couples are jewels, only few are blessed with.
I am here again. Home alone. Recognized that I still have the same habbit that I did not leave in the states. I go to my room. Close the door. Sit on my bed. Read or talk to myself. Leave the whole house or apartment and do that. Except that here I do not have a nice scenery that I can gaze at. I look and wonder if my heart and soul have been squeezed by the very defined, crowded space that I semi-survive in. My brain and thoughts grew tight and slim from the idea diet I have been experiencing for sometime. My vision shortened from the crowd and tight space surrounding me. Not enought O2 in the air for everyone. The obvious, felt, tensioned air everywhere. At times I feel I am going to suffocate from all the breathing and whispering I feel and see around me. Of all the captured energy, struggle of things and for things around me. Feels like everyone is hiding behind high doors. Operating from behind a shelf. Defending. Closed. Secretively challenging. Double faced. You never know where the truth is anymore. Hardly can I feel secure and trusting. I become like a leaf in the wind. I remember the movie, American Beauty, where the boy was filming the plastic bag flying with the wind. I connect to this scene. I start to dislike the walls and the stepping into my space. I start to recognize when someone steps into my office. I hate to let everyone in. I want to be able to ask them to stay outside. I want to be alone. Enough that I see nothing from my cube except walls and closed windows. I feel my whole being is shutting down. My heart squeezing. My breath shallowing. My brain running out of business. I look at the buildings and it now feels like ghosts. I can no more object or say anything. I notice myself, shutting down my objection in silence. I notice and not saying or commenting anymore. I just absorb and silenced myself.
I am tired. Not sure at times if I am happy. Know that I am tired. I am living the last scene I suppose. Either ends with a happy audiance or just indulging and swallowing all the silence in the world inside the suppositedly green space in me. I wait in anticipation. At times. Not always. Fear at others. Hope at others. An audiance most of the times. Just waiting for the play to end to pull down the curtains. Play? Life?
She is in Alex hunting for her pleasure that she can not find. Not sure if she is happy. But she has lots of things to be happy with, yet, insisting to deny them all and search for something else. Puzzling me. Resist her. Pressures me with her expectation. I have fun with her. Meet only when I want and can. I have to be in the mood for her. Not sure what she does to me. Just that she triggers me to thinking of how forever some people will remain lost if they did not find peace inside. Will never recognize their many blessings. Envious. How love, harmony and understanding between married couples are jewels, only few are blessed with.
I am here again. Home alone. Recognized that I still have the same habbit that I did not leave in the states. I go to my room. Close the door. Sit on my bed. Read or talk to myself. Leave the whole house or apartment and do that. Except that here I do not have a nice scenery that I can gaze at. I look and wonder if my heart and soul have been squeezed by the very defined, crowded space that I semi-survive in. My brain and thoughts grew tight and slim from the idea diet I have been experiencing for sometime. My vision shortened from the crowd and tight space surrounding me. Not enought O2 in the air for everyone. The obvious, felt, tensioned air everywhere. At times I feel I am going to suffocate from all the breathing and whispering I feel and see around me. Of all the captured energy, struggle of things and for things around me. Feels like everyone is hiding behind high doors. Operating from behind a shelf. Defending. Closed. Secretively challenging. Double faced. You never know where the truth is anymore. Hardly can I feel secure and trusting. I become like a leaf in the wind. I remember the movie, American Beauty, where the boy was filming the plastic bag flying with the wind. I connect to this scene. I start to dislike the walls and the stepping into my space. I start to recognize when someone steps into my office. I hate to let everyone in. I want to be able to ask them to stay outside. I want to be alone. Enough that I see nothing from my cube except walls and closed windows. I feel my whole being is shutting down. My heart squeezing. My breath shallowing. My brain running out of business. I look at the buildings and it now feels like ghosts. I can no more object or say anything. I notice myself, shutting down my objection in silence. I notice and not saying or commenting anymore. I just absorb and silenced myself.
I am tired. Not sure at times if I am happy. Know that I am tired. I am living the last scene I suppose. Either ends with a happy audiance or just indulging and swallowing all the silence in the world inside the suppositedly green space in me. I wait in anticipation. At times. Not always. Fear at others. Hope at others. An audiance most of the times. Just waiting for the play to end to pull down the curtains. Play? Life?
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