It is a beautiful day in Green Valley, the temperature is warming. The light is bright but not enough to make you blink. I have had many hits on this site but very few comments, much like an infant crying his or her heart out but mom and dad do not respond. I find it analogous to our situation in the universe, the waa-waa of human beings in the void, no one to hear us, much less respond. It only goes to prove a point I’ve been making in these blogs — perhaps they are misnamed and should be called blahs. Facebook, Myspace, cell phones and all this social networking really produces a malformed child. We really have nothing to say to one another except blather. I write this blog for outer space, for the void, and for the life of me I find it fascinating that I have received very few comments. What does it take for a response? Oh, I don’t need it (does he deceive himself?) but it is a kind of internet phenomenon, billiards played with thousands upon thousands of broken cuesticks. No one ever goes for the side pocket. I have chosen to write regardless of the silence, which intrigues me. I need to say a few things and I may reach many more individuals than I would in an article, story or novel.
I have a simple thesis, like nacre growing about a pearl, that many of us have a whole lot of nothing to say; we imbibe, but we cannot process, much less express ourselves. I give voice here to what I feel and think. Perhaps some readers are like velco, attaching themselves to my thoughts, my feelings, much like free-floating lint. What does it take, reader, to coalesce into an expressive self?
When I am not engaged as a human being, when social distance is the shared bread between us, I fall back existentially (I mean that) upon myself. I devour some of the stored fats of my persona to recover from the rebuff or stony silence. I fall back upon myself. Loneliness rings me, and much of human existence is a kind of loneliness. I do not flee from it nor do I look for it, but when it enters my presence I incorporate it and feel it, make the pips squeak like a wrung out lemon. And it causes pain and suffering; however, one does grow a rind and learns from loneliness — that it is ever there; that it hurts the spirit; that it demoralizes; that it knocks down the inner struts of self, for a while.
I have been too lonely in my life, even when married . If you look for it, it is always there; if you flee from it, which is a major spine of this culture, you will never learn what it could do to you once the first tsunami passes. Loneliness makes you less of a coward, it may make you brave; loneliness makes you live alone without feeling lonely; loneliness prepares you for IAMness.
Adieu!
Leave a Reply