Hello To No One

No one comes here anymore. I am again alone in the confines of my stately role as a singular creature. I am often sad, but who is not? I am often bewildered by the days about me, but each one of us has known that fate time and again. To be myself completely is a hard-earned accomplishment bereft of ease understanding. I am here amidst my familiar surroundings but my mind and my heart are elsewhere always, never leaving notice of their departure, and never bringing comfort upon their return. All this, and now and then a little gray skies and shivers, and you find me simply being as I am.

I don't want another winter ever. I want the sunshine forever on my shoulders and the warm air filling my lungs full and fuller still with confidence in the day and night. And the night, to be out of doors among the stars bright above, that is what I long for. Then again, in the coldest of cold when the atmosphere is incredibly thin there is no better way to stare at the stars, but in that cold my eyes give way and tear up and weaken beneath such heavenly lights and I am forced to blink and lose the perpetual bliss of a long gaze above. I don't want to blink anymore. Who would? When life is so fleeting and we are so busy all the time, who would want to miss a single moment in the time given? A man's full life is merely a yawn from the mouth of the cosmos.

And then maybe I am sad simply because it is winter and no amount of good friends, drink, warmth, or love could cure this ailment. Only at night is there some small comforts, simply because social events are prompted easily while we all sit around a table with warm coffee and cigarettes and talk of each others' miseries. You think after twenty-two years I'd get used to the spin, but I guess not. Now I'm stealing others' words so I must depart. Adieu.