Pretend

It's 5:41am. I find myself tonight in a state of true anguish. How I long for the touch of a lover, of a person who's life  would fill my soul with true warmth. I think of myself as a loner, someone who is naturally alone for life. I have the occasional bouts of loneliness though, where I stretch my arms out to the world, hoping that someone will stretch theirs back. The soft touch of skin upon skin, of the smell of their hair, or the look of animal carnal desires from their eyes. Yet the longing is followed by the coldness of it, the feeling of sadness, and yet complete fullness. Satisfaction. My god the emotion is intoxicating, how one would throw themselves into such disarray, to feel such an emotion. I know that solitude will kill me, but I am in love, in love with the feeling of melancholy, of loneliness of solitude. I keep looking at these people, who show themselves, how they waver in feelings of solitude, and I pity them, for they do not understand the real treasure they possess. So we must pretend, pretend that we are like they are, lonely, and sad, hoping for someone to save them from themselves. To hope for a ridiculous concept of having a person to love, because for people like us, there will be no salvation, but a strange nature to guide us to our true love, solitude and loneliness. Feel lonely! Feel lonely for all the hurt the world has given us! Feel lonely for they do not understand, or comprehend our multitudes! Feel lonely, to remember what it is like to feel alive.