When I reach the end of one row, I continue straight on away from the barn and the farm and the road. I walk until I come to a pile of hay bales and plop myself down. The sun is bright and the air is sharp. In the distance I hear the lowing of cows. It's so peaceful here.
"Merry Christmas, " I whisper to myself. "Merry Christmas, Nate.
People Die...
Beauty Fades...
Love Changes...
And You Will Always Be Alone
Here we go mother on the shipless ocean.
Pity us, pity the ocean, here we go.
There's a book of poetry
in the lines of my hands
that no one wants to read
To you who eat a lot of rice because you’re lonely,
To you who sleep a lot because you’re bored,
To you who cry a lot because you are sad, I write this down.
Chew on your feelings that are cornerned like you would chew on rice.
Anyway, life is something that you need to digest.
The sun loved me again when it saw that the stars would not abandon me.
To an optimist loneliness is freedom, to all others it is prison.
You get lonely, is what it is. A person's not supposed to go through life with absolutely nobody. It's not normal. The longer you go by yourself the weirder you get, and the weirder you get the longer you go by yourself. It's a loop and you gotta do something to get out of it.
We need to bridge our sense of loneliness and disconnection with a sense of community and continuity even if we must manufacture it from our time on the Web and our use of calling cards to connect long distance. We must “log on” somewhere, and if it is only in cyberspace, that is still far better than nowhere at all. (264)