Poetry | Writing
On Writing, and Loneliness
Like drops of rain
Such a long winter’s night
Dark night of the soul
Wandering through timeless nature and
devotion.
I traveled through time to you
to find
you had already gone.
Is this what loneliness means?
What is it, this essence of being, an existence experienced
as one being…
…being what?
Why do we become humans doing? It it the precursor to humans being?
What is it, to be?
Walking the Earth, contemplating life and things we believe have meaning, and may in fact, or —
may not at all.
What is loneliness? What does it mean? How does it feel?
What is the cure?
Finding commonality? Camaraderie? Friendship? Love?
Lightness of being?
Drops of rain, falling where they may.
These questions are how I arrived here, to these words, to this page, to this moment.
What is to be done?
The grace of being a writer is that, in reality,
— you are never alone.
This is why I write.
It is what I do.
(Poetic) essay 090 of the 0100 series.
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