The Fragility of Loneliness

A ruinous place. Unable to be named. The silent persecution inside, persisted in the form of mental torture; the daily routine of mirror goading. A dark place. Sitting in a room at night, feeling eternity. Invisible. Being in a setting, yet unseen. It’s like navigation upon a path without any guidance. When will it end? You are meant to suffer it tells one. Alone.

I espy loneliness as unnatural; human beings crave relations, companions, liable sources to edify. Support. It is fear; there is diminished freedom inside it, none, as one tremble to the aura among. Loneliness is anxiety; perturbation as its sibling, uncertainty, its friend. Endless wonder of endless wondering. Cold with no hope for a source of warmth, but unbearable heat.

A paradox.

Deep drowning in the ocean, the mind thinking “Hopeless”. A crowd of people, swallowing the thought that your existence is insignificant; believing that one is meaningless to anyone and anything. A tragedy, a heartbreak some may say, hardship upon hurt. It is being covered in open wounds to never heal. It is a shame.

Have you marveled, what lonely has versed you each time it vanishes? That feeling, taking an unwanted vacation to you as its destination. You are used. Subconsciously sensed, yet not pondered in the very front of your eyes. When it disappears, you are suddenly not only. You have company, in which, words of others relinquish their support; these are the only terms you hope to listen to, to hear from — a drastic hope unable to be completed.

The fragility of lonely teaches; “Step out of the places where you feel your priorities are less important.”

Disparate sides are present. Psychological support is mind-boggling. One’s unconscious and subconscious combating the discrete routes to adjudge lonely. The feeling of sticky perspiration on a humid day. A strangely framed magnifying glass, as you try desperately to run in the opposite direction. The invisible monster swallowing happiness, before there is a way to understanding the occurrence. Good ridden.

The third wheel.

The imaginary conversations.

A disturbing sea of sadness with tides of emotion.

Over-tantalization tied to overthinking.

A process of ruin.

Despite these descriptions that seem secure, unbearable to vanquish; the fragility of loneliness. There is an aim.

Unearthing the correct place where you undergo as if nothing on the opposing side can oppress the crisis. Priorities that are valued, one discerns themselves becoming the beggar. The ignored. Yet, stem from this stigma. Appraise yourself as the beggar, while others, are the people where you feel the attentiveness should be gathered. You mount and mooch for minutes, hours, as long as sustainable to veer attention towards you. The particular persons grasping your showing, yet ignoring; pretending nobody is there, eyeball signals that say “Stop.” Is there disgrace? , not yet. This is only the first attempt.

The next, at length, the persons give you the craved heed you witness the majority receives. Wondering. Imagine this moment, of qualities and strength. Yet, the image evoked is a beggar. The confidence and character you have groomed are shared, yet only out of the drastic glances of desperation. The subtle strays of loneliness. Your question.

Is isolation away from caste “lonely”? Do you want to be glimpsed as this beggar? The fragility of lonely, it is a freedom, freedom, arising from sponging for priority. The inferiority; we say goodbye. It is enough. Step away from the low self-esteemed position that has held you in its chains for too long. Stand out of the shade, into the sunlight.

Be distinctive.

The upmost piece of the attitude that sketches one’s person. Project and shine solely. Being unique, your own, exposing the variances you hold. Never beg, or permit those to exploit. Qualities and respect become deserved. These begs of the company turn into dust, once sickly, now viewer valuable. It is the plate, what cannot be learned; treasure. Desperation into ashes. You have been hiding inside, seeking, yet exposed. Flourish with self-improvisations. Be with bare hands.

People will come in search of you. They will.

There are still those rainy nights, staring into the infinite darkness. You did nothing to poison. The vicious circle, unable to be broken. Splashing water upon the reddening face. Colors went and replaced with shadows. It takes a grip of your hand, pulling you to follow.

The fragility of loneliness has been found.

It is able to be defeated. Wake up to the glistening rays, sitting beside oneself; another day. A victim of loneliness, I am. The feeling, drowning your shoulders in heavy. Yet still, a girl, that will do anything to keep a smile upon another face. Sacrifice. Be kind to other human beings. No one knows the private turmoils.