Alone in this corner writing, thinking, and debating why am I so alone but surrounded with some many people. Having the inability to be close to somebody that truly loves you. Not being able to befriend someone with a much more profound connection as me. Surrounded by some many people, but still yet alone in this corner, writing. Drained with my periodic expressions of loneliness and depression. You would think I was improving, but that path was suppressed. Suppressed with dissatisfaction with myself. A certain level of confidence that was untouched and isolated that is now taken over me and affecting everything that has been brought upon me to make my happiness result in madness. And yet, I’m still in this corner writing, thinking, and debating why am I so alone but surrounded with some many people. Infatuations are taking over me with every woman I see, but I’m in love with somebody, but she so far away from me. It strangles me so. It attacks me more of why am I in such solitude that it makes me rage in disaster and calamity. It’s mind bobbling. It’s excruciating. It’s nerve-wrecking. It’s impossible. WHY AM I SO ALONE, but surrounded with some many people. WHY AM I SO INVISIBLE, when everyone sees me? WHY DO I CARE ABOUT PEOPLE, when no ones care about me? Still, writing, thinking, and debating all alone in this corner.
