The loneliness is taking hold
the darkest parts of me
no one could ever follow me into those depths and still love me in the morning.
But is that really so?
Or have I found the one?
The one.
And maybe,
we could learn to be lonely in each other’s company.
Emptiness, a space that only I fill. there’s no you and I only me. A hollow place where I am with my thoughts only and nothing else. It’s comforting and therapeutic and fills a need when the world presses in on me.
For me, loneliness equals pain. I can’t say why, I don’t even KNOW why. It just does. I suppose, really, I shouldn’t feel this way—I’ve got everything and then some. But why don’t I feel complete?
Is looking up at the stars, looking out at the crowds, looking down on the city, looking back at the front door, looking away from their eyes, looking beyond the empty road in front of you, stretching toward the never-ending horizon, when suddenly your vision is blurred, as if nerves connected to something untenable are telling your brain of the pain induced by looking.
Cry, cry, cry and scratch the bottom of the unbreachable door. She’s in the other room, the far away room, the room beyond the door. Sleeping, resting, warm covers soft and billowing by her warmest spots, and I am locked in here. Cry, scratch.
She could feel it that inky feeling spreading through her body as she slumped against the tree watching the dark haired man walk into the darkness of the forest. I’ll miss you.
Loneliness was all around me. That’s what I breathed. What I inhaled. What I exhaled. What I saw. It was everything. Every void space inside of me was filled with that one feeling. It made me cry. I cried every night thanks to loneliness. Cried until my lungs gave out and rancid puke made its way. More like dry heaving. It’s horrible. And I can’t do anything about it. Wherever I am, whoever I’m with, that’s the predominant feeling. Always the predominant feeling. So here I am now complaining about loneliness and why I can’t have it in my life right now. It ruins me.
What about this word. It’s not comedy it’s something serious. Don’t you know that. Please tell me the truth of the matter that I know it better than you do . I need to open the door. I bet she’s calling. Oh no go look. What should I do. Time is running out.
The Irish poet O’ Riordan spoke of the loneliness of his search for enlightenment. Too many of his peers could not follow him on his quest, and the majority of folk had no interest in even joining journey, being content in what their everyday, ordinary lives provided them. In the end, he gave up his search to return to the bosom of his society, and comforted himself with the company of others. I, on the other hand, do not fear loneliness, for I already experience it, so my quest for enlightenment will go on.
I sat on the edge of my red leather chair wondering, when would the tyranny of fighting one’s own mind would end. When would she walk past the trees into the clearing to meet me with a satisfied grin.
he lays in bed and sniffles, his bright red nose feeling full and scratchy, fogging his head. at the foot of his bed, his familiar lays curled up and sleeping peacefully. corsica frowned harder, if possible, and groaned in frustration as he tried shutting his eyes once more.
he’d told romeo to go to the ball with someone else, preferably a girl. he isn’t sure why he said that, corsica knew became jealous easily, but he didn’t want romeo to miss out on the fun either. not because of him.
not being surrounded. it is a big echo where you are thoroughly drowning without a peaceful stillness. self. too much of it. and having a sense that life is too big and your soul too thin.
the day seems longer than you think. tonight is just beginning and we have so much more to look forward to. i miss you like i miss the old me. all the time. but that’s background music and you’re background music now. take care of yourself, tom, the night is young and the future IS bright. and if you must: don’t die alone.
Somehow when he looked at me I just knew he was a sufferer of loneliness. I knew he was a lost cause, sitting by himself in the darkness of solitary evenings, wishing on stars before they appear, lighting candles if only to illuminate his own heart.
Its an easy word to spell, to learn. its easy to feel. but its heavy, in your heart. you can feel it weighing you down, like rocks in your pocket, a girdle on your chest. it fills your eyes and blurs away the faces of the people around you until there is no one left and you are alone in a sea of obscurity.
We know someone is there, and hence loneliness eats us up. Because the Ghost that walks with us is invisible, so our eyes search for a companion. This breath that gives us life is not solid and so we reach out to touch. A walk in loneliness is a walk with the greatest of company.
i feel lonely when i no longer have you around. i feel lonely when i have no one around. sometimes i just want you to come over and fill this gap this space this emptiness i hold inside me but i know, in the end you won’t fill it up, you will end up digger deeper and leaving me. leaving me with a bigger gap and sooner or later i will have to learn to fill it myself
Her loneliness consumed her at times, but then other times she didn’t think of it because she had been alone most of her life. And her life alone was all she knew.
Ever since Abby left, I’ve felt this indescribable loneliness in my heart. I don’t know why. Sure we were best friends, and we meant—and hopefully still mean—the world to each other, but it never ventured beyond that. I’d never imagined my life without her in it, and now that she was gone, well…I don’t know how I can cope. Or if I ever will.
The feeling of being truly alone is terrible, awful, no good, very bad. It is a dark bedroom at 3 am, woken by a phonecall you always dreaded, hoped would never come. An “I’m sorry” from someone who’s had to deliver too much bad news.
As I find my life contrived, I depict a loneliness unto itself. A grandeur; befit to sanctuary. The epidemic that defiles what I believe to be solitude. I can no longer accept our hierarchy, and I can no longer accept myself.
As I find my life contrived, I depict a loneliness unto itself. A grandeur; befit to sanctuary. The epidemic that defiles what I believe to be solitude. I can no longer accept our hierarchy,
Lonileness is when you cant spell shit even though the word is right above you. Lonliness is when you fucked up in computer class and didnt pay attention when they taught you how to hold your hands when you type so you only use two fingers and your thumbs. But I can type faster than you computer slave bitches so fuck you.
I am not lonely when I am alone. In fact is something that I need for the creation that is in my mind. I need the quit. I need to be on my own and working as I go. I do spend time with those I love. Yet they know, that sometimes it is very nice to be alone.
And once again, she was all alone. Yes, her daughter along with her two (elderly) cats were right in the other room. But this was a different sort of loneliness – after being married for several years, raising a child, she had left that man. She found that she never seemed to hold them down – but she didn’t think of it as holding someone down. She just wanted him back, no matter how messed up their relationship was. At least he would’ve stayed if she hadn’t left. Then, maybe, she wouldn’t be quite so lonely.
I thought that, when I pulled the plug of my computer and swore off the Internet for a month, I’d be crushed with a stark, impeccable sense of loneliness. Seemingly, I was losing contact with hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Long distance friends, old acquaintances, teachers miles away. I wouldn’t be typing little blurbs to them or clicking that good old thumbs up icon on my sites.
Three days in, however, I was outside more, talking to more local people, and becoming more active. I was the opposite of lonely. I was liberated.
You can let the darkness consume you
That’s your choice
But make sure you love yourself
And don’t deny the light
I don’t feel like telling you how i feel
And i don’t feel like lying
I am so confused constrained by what ifs
I find myself when I’m lost
More often than not
Maybe i just need a stronger cup of coffee
In my head I’m full
Fully alone
And around people i empty
And it’s tiring
They drain me
Pick me dry
Need time
Alone
To rejuvinate
Sometimes loneliness is my
One true friend
Loneliness is the friend you learn to live with and fear to live without. Loneliness is the comfort of never having to be vulnerable in someone else’s arms that may or may not squeeze too tight. It is the darkness that claims, “I’m the only one you can truly trust. You’ve got no one else but me.” It’s your best friend, it’s your creator. It’s your god. Loneliness is knowing that hope is not for you, that the light at the end of the tunnel doesn’t and will never shine for you. Instead, it’s the whispering shadows that guide you blind through the dark tunnel. Loneliness is the bastard that trips you once you figure out which way to start running but you have to keep running no matter how hard it tries to stop you. Run fast and run hard.
Because loneliness will never stop until it’s destroyed you.
She sat there all by herself, looking down at her food and didn’t dare to gaze back at me. She knew I was watching her, pondering her. She had no friends, no family. She had no name. Her name was loneliness.
The loneliness crept in like a thief around the corner waiting to take your security. It’s like a villian who’s held you captured long along for you to identify with it and find security in the very thing that you fears but knew all so well.
It hadn’t always been like this. She remembers a time when the house was filled with love, with family, HER family. But the house was empty now, dust and cobwebs filling the once lively space. She remained though, alive in her own way, lingering on the edges of color and light but never truly knowing either. Not anymore.
The loneliness is taking hold
the darkest parts of me
no one could ever follow me into those depths and still love me in the morning.
But is that really so?
Or have I found the one?
The one.
And maybe,
we could learn to be lonely in each other’s company.
Emptiness, a space that only I fill. there’s no you and I only me. A hollow place where I am with my thoughts only and nothing else. It’s comforting and therapeutic and fills a need when the world presses in on me.
For me, loneliness equals pain. I can’t say why, I don’t even KNOW why. It just does. I suppose, really, I shouldn’t feel this way—I’ve got everything and then some. But why don’t I feel complete?
Is looking up at the stars, looking out at the crowds, looking down on the city, looking back at the front door, looking away from their eyes, looking beyond the empty road in front of you, stretching toward the never-ending horizon, when suddenly your vision is blurred, as if nerves connected to something untenable are telling your brain of the pain induced by looking.
Cry, cry, cry and scratch the bottom of the unbreachable door. She’s in the other room, the far away room, the room beyond the door. Sleeping, resting, warm covers soft and billowing by her warmest spots, and I am locked in here. Cry, scratch.
She could feel it that inky feeling spreading through her body as she slumped against the tree watching the dark haired man walk into the darkness of the forest. I’ll miss you.
Loneliness was all around me. That’s what I breathed. What I inhaled. What I exhaled. What I saw. It was everything. Every void space inside of me was filled with that one feeling. It made me cry. I cried every night thanks to loneliness. Cried until my lungs gave out and rancid puke made its way. More like dry heaving. It’s horrible. And I can’t do anything about it. Wherever I am, whoever I’m with, that’s the predominant feeling. Always the predominant feeling. So here I am now complaining about loneliness and why I can’t have it in my life right now. It ruins me.
What about this word. It’s not comedy it’s something serious. Don’t you know that. Please tell me the truth of the matter that I know it better than you do . I need to open the door. I bet she’s calling. Oh no go look. What should I do. Time is running out.
The Irish poet O’ Riordan spoke of the loneliness of his search for enlightenment. Too many of his peers could not follow him on his quest, and the majority of folk had no interest in even joining journey, being content in what their everyday, ordinary lives provided them. In the end, he gave up his search to return to the bosom of his society, and comforted himself with the company of others. I, on the other hand, do not fear loneliness, for I already experience it, so my quest for enlightenment will go on.
I sat on the edge of my red leather chair wondering, when would the tyranny of fighting one’s own mind would end. When would she walk past the trees into the clearing to meet me with a satisfied grin.
so alone, so sad
reflecting, reminishing
somebody please
lend me your heart
he lays in bed and sniffles, his bright red nose feeling full and scratchy, fogging his head. at the foot of his bed, his familiar lays curled up and sleeping peacefully. corsica frowned harder, if possible, and groaned in frustration as he tried shutting his eyes once more.
he’d told romeo to go to the ball with someone else, preferably a girl. he isn’t sure why he said that, corsica knew became jealous easily, but he didn’t want romeo to miss out on the fun either. not because of him.
The wolf barks at loneliness, singing crybaby, crybaby! Come run with me, and the wind will brush your tears away.
Once you’ve stripped the cloth away, shed your coat of regret, we will sleep together, we females beneath the moon, liberated, without covering.
not being surrounded. it is a big echo where you are thoroughly drowning without a peaceful stillness. self. too much of it. and having a sense that life is too big and your soul too thin.
the day seems longer than you think. tonight is just beginning and we have so much more to look forward to. i miss you like i miss the old me. all the time. but that’s background music and you’re background music now. take care of yourself, tom, the night is young and the future IS bright. and if you must: don’t die alone.
Somehow when he looked at me I just knew he was a sufferer of loneliness. I knew he was a lost cause, sitting by himself in the darkness of solitary evenings, wishing on stars before they appear, lighting candles if only to illuminate his own heart.
One time where you have for not thinking, medition, try to thinking in nothing
Its an easy word to spell, to learn. its easy to feel. but its heavy, in your heart. you can feel it weighing you down, like rocks in your pocket, a girdle on your chest. it fills your eyes and blurs away the faces of the people around you until there is no one left and you are alone in a sea of obscurity.
How perfect. I came to write away my loneliness only to find it staring me back in the face. I just want to talk to him.
We know someone is there, and hence loneliness eats us up. Because the Ghost that walks with us is invisible, so our eyes search for a companion. This breath that gives us life is not solid and so we reach out to touch. A walk in loneliness is a walk with the greatest of company.
i feel lonely when i no longer have you around. i feel lonely when i have no one around. sometimes i just want you to come over and fill this gap this space this emptiness i hold inside me but i know, in the end you won’t fill it up, you will end up digger deeper and leaving me. leaving me with a bigger gap and sooner or later i will have to learn to fill it myself
Her loneliness consumed her at times, but then other times she didn’t think of it because she had been alone most of her life. And her life alone was all she knew.
Ever since Abby left, I’ve felt this indescribable loneliness in my heart. I don’t know why. Sure we were best friends, and we meant—and hopefully still mean—the world to each other, but it never ventured beyond that. I’d never imagined my life without her in it, and now that she was gone, well…I don’t know how I can cope. Or if I ever will.
Lonliness is a cat winding down a staircase in an empty house remembering when her mistress lived there.
ahhh, the most contemptible word in my lexicon. Should it happen to no one. We are never alone. It’s a conscious choice.
The feeling of being truly alone is terrible, awful, no good, very bad. It is a dark bedroom at 3 am, woken by a phonecall you always dreaded, hoped would never come. An “I’m sorry” from someone who’s had to deliver too much bad news.
As I find my life contrived, I depict a loneliness unto itself. A grandeur; befit to sanctuary. The epidemic that defiles what I believe to be solitude. I can no longer accept our hierarchy, and I can no longer accept myself.
As I find my life contrived, I depict a loneliness unto itself. A grandeur; befit to sanctuary. The epidemic that defiles what I believe to be solitude. I can no longer accept our hierarchy,
Loneliness is overrated,
It sucks your soul and leaves you faded;
I can’t keep up with this fraud this lie
Sometimes I just wanna cry…
when i was a child i loved the darkness. even in a house filled with too many people, too many drugs, i could feel alone in the dark.
Lonileness is when you cant spell shit even though the word is right above you. Lonliness is when you fucked up in computer class and didnt pay attention when they taught you how to hold your hands when you type so you only use two fingers and your thumbs. But I can type faster than you computer slave bitches so fuck you.
I am not lonely when I am alone. In fact is something that I need for the creation that is in my mind. I need the quit. I need to be on my own and working as I go. I do spend time with those I love. Yet they know, that sometimes it is very nice to be alone.
And once again, she was all alone. Yes, her daughter along with her two (elderly) cats were right in the other room. But this was a different sort of loneliness – after being married for several years, raising a child, she had left that man. She found that she never seemed to hold them down – but she didn’t think of it as holding someone down. She just wanted him back, no matter how messed up their relationship was. At least he would’ve stayed if she hadn’t left. Then, maybe, she wouldn’t be quite so lonely.
I thought that, when I pulled the plug of my computer and swore off the Internet for a month, I’d be crushed with a stark, impeccable sense of loneliness. Seemingly, I was losing contact with hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Long distance friends, old acquaintances, teachers miles away. I wouldn’t be typing little blurbs to them or clicking that good old thumbs up icon on my sites.
Three days in, however, I was outside more, talking to more local people, and becoming more active. I was the opposite of lonely. I was liberated.
I was lonely at home then I think about loneliness.somebody said loneliness is not bad you think your life totally…
You can let the darkness consume you
That’s your choice
But make sure you love yourself
And don’t deny the light
I don’t feel like telling you how i feel
And i don’t feel like lying
I am so confused constrained by what ifs
I find myself when I’m lost
More often than not
Maybe i just need a stronger cup of coffee
In my head I’m full
Fully alone
And around people i empty
And it’s tiring
They drain me
Pick me dry
Need time
Alone
To rejuvinate
Sometimes loneliness is my
One true friend
Loneliness is the friend you learn to live with and fear to live without. Loneliness is the comfort of never having to be vulnerable in someone else’s arms that may or may not squeeze too tight. It is the darkness that claims, “I’m the only one you can truly trust. You’ve got no one else but me.” It’s your best friend, it’s your creator. It’s your god. Loneliness is knowing that hope is not for you, that the light at the end of the tunnel doesn’t and will never shine for you. Instead, it’s the whispering shadows that guide you blind through the dark tunnel. Loneliness is the bastard that trips you once you figure out which way to start running but you have to keep running no matter how hard it tries to stop you. Run fast and run hard.
Because loneliness will never stop until it’s destroyed you.
She sat there all by herself, looking down at her food and didn’t dare to gaze back at me. She knew I was watching her, pondering her. She had no friends, no family. She had no name. Her name was loneliness.
The loneliness crept in like a thief around the corner waiting to take your security. It’s like a villian who’s held you captured long along for you to identify with it and find security in the very thing that you fears but knew all so well.
It hadn’t always been like this. She remembers a time when the house was filled with love, with family, HER family. But the house was empty now, dust and cobwebs filling the once lively space. She remained though, alive in her own way, lingering on the edges of color and light but never truly knowing either. Not anymore.