All this time you tried to tell them that you're alive... When would they notice it... And ..will they?
And the more people you see going in front of your sight to and fro the more loneliness evaporates like some balloon getting bigger and emptier. So maybe if you live the way of some hermit along with flowers in the field maybe you'll feel less thrown out and outsided than before. There's almost nobody there except the shadows of angels and the memory of bad days. Never want to believe there'll be worse ahead I'd love to think still there's something better in store for us. But then again, we're too dependable on people. We shouldn't be so. The thing that means the most is treated like rubbish almost all the time. And all friends quickly decide to pretend you're nobody, and all those who know you seem to have an amnesia for it. And all of them consider you to be undeserving of that blessed state of mind and style of life that seems to them some easy ethereal myth. Oh God, it's really hard, far too hard to exist that way.
