loneliness
the sun has set. everyone has retreated to their houses. the shadows play behind curtains, signs of families having their dinner together. the sound of silence deafens like only silence can. the only sound around is that of the insects. the hums and the cricks. the ambient sounds in the landscape. tonight, it clogs the atmosphere. the otherwise silence of the night is broken by the high pitched of highly revved motorbikes flying past 2 roads away.
2 blankets envelop me. the outer of darkness. the inner of solitude. i look to the heavens and commune with the stars. i talk to myself, telling myself that this loneliness is transient. that soon i'll be in the company of those who love me. but try as i might, the constant thought is this... i am here.. alone.. over 8000 km away from the people i love. the longing to be touched is overwhelming. a hug when i most need it. i pick up my mobile and scroll through the phone book. it returns to the 1st name without me feeling the urge to dial any of the numbers. a phone call is a temporary salve that distracts the mind for as long as it lasts. like a narcotic that gives a high, as soon as it wears off, i am plunged once again into the depths of loneliness.
words, i do not care for... all i want is the presence and the touch. even if it may only may be the slight movement of the sofa in response to the expansion and contraction of the chest as my companion breathes. to reach out and touch someone... that is all i want at night.
2 blankets envelop me. the outer of darkness. the inner of solitude. i look to the heavens and commune with the stars. i talk to myself, telling myself that this loneliness is transient. that soon i'll be in the company of those who love me. but try as i might, the constant thought is this... i am here.. alone.. over 8000 km away from the people i love. the longing to be touched is overwhelming. a hug when i most need it. i pick up my mobile and scroll through the phone book. it returns to the 1st name without me feeling the urge to dial any of the numbers. a phone call is a temporary salve that distracts the mind for as long as it lasts. like a narcotic that gives a high, as soon as it wears off, i am plunged once again into the depths of loneliness.
words, i do not care for... all i want is the presence and the touch. even if it may only may be the slight movement of the sofa in response to the expansion and contraction of the chest as my companion breathes. to reach out and touch someone... that is all i want at night.
