Awake, as the moon half hidden behind the winter clouds shines, moonbeams like tiny icicles into my room. Brrr so cold. Alone with the moon; what a peculiar place I find myself in. I need to write because I find myself again so full of words, so full of feeling and unable to understand the extent of it all. What's wrong with me? I have to understand, because I want to get it right. Exploring, diving, reaching for answers inside me. I wish I could open myself up and find the truth. Sometimes everything becomes so muddled and unclear.
Moments of clarity in a whirlpool of confusion and chaos. Maybe that is my destiny... I just get lonely sometimes, you know? Is everybody lonely? They hide it better than I. Surrounded by people, but disconnected from everyone. What is it that opens us up to people? Why do we allow some inside, allow some to know us and everyone else has to maintain the mystery? Is loneliness selfish? It seems everything is selfish. We love so we can feel the bliss of giving to someone else, yet we also love hoping that someone else will love us in return. We love each other so we can not feel lonely, so we can brighten our own skies and make ourselves happier. It does work. It's mutually beneficial when you get it right. How selfish we are; how selfish am I to think I need someone to love.
