Lonely
I’m awake but no one can tell. There’s no one to whisper good morning. I open a small slit in the blinds just big enough to see a sliver of the outside. No one knows. The harsh bright reality is jarring and I let go immediately. If I tripped and fell down the stairs and hit my head and died right now no one would know for weeks. Maybe months. No one knows that I’m having coffee and not tea. I know it’s been raining because I hear the cars splashing outside. No one knows I’m here alone. No one knows that I haven’t done my laundry for weeks or that I haven’t paid a bill for months. I hear my neighbors talk and laugh outside. They don’t know I’m here. They don’t know I can hear them. A child screams and giggles, completely unaware that I envy him. The postman jams junk through the letter hole startling me. He doesn’t know I’m here. I try to read a book that no one knows I’m reading. Is it night yet? Can I go to sleep and disown myself for a few hours? Hopefully I won’t dream. Just dark, quiet, stillness. Try to make it last. It doesn’t. I’m awake again but no one can tell.
16 July 2007 at 5:31 pm
Very familiar. But I believe this is why the internet was invented.
In the blogosphere (ugh), everyone can hear you scream. As many times a day as you like. Via an RSS feed.
16 July 2007 at 5:39 pm
Ew. You said ‘blogosphere’.
17 July 2007 at 8:59 am
I love that feeling of aloneness, but I am probably just weird. I also love “blogosphere” because of the image of rotund flatulence it gives me. And just as if that wasn’t annoying enough, I’ve tagged you.
17 July 2007 at 10:27 am
Oooh, my first tag? Do you think I’m ready for this? I mean, I don’t know. This is a such a big step, I’ve only just arrived and I tend to screw everything up…
Errr, I mean thanks, Z! (I think.)
17 July 2007 at 7:39 pm
I have to admit, I do really hate being tagged, and I’m not sure whether I feel penitent or sadistic about passing it on. And I wouldn’t worry about screwing it up - I invariably do.
17 July 2007 at 8:07 pm
I think I squirreled my way out of it nicely, don’t you?