Noonewhowantstotalkanymore.

There, I said it. The unspeakable notion that we're all conscious rocks floating on one big fat one. through space. hurling ourselves into an expanding space. for what?

to feel? perhaps.

but that would be too easy.

i think the difficulty is to be alone.

to find oneself alone. in a town full of millions of people. who inadvertently, unbeknownst to themselves, will also, feel alone.

so then, feel it alrighty!

The pain of your own existence.

then wonder why it is exists.

then laugh.

but only to yourself.

and know that there's noonewhowantstotalkanymore.

and that is a-ok.

let the food sizzle while you cook.

let the tea kettle bubble while you turn the record.

and then watch yourself in movement.

constant movement, you are already changing.

rearranging the guts of someone who felt lonely before.

but now, it's different.

you are writing for the audience of one.

and that is a-ok.

you look back at your highland cat licking her ass.

she's writing too.