We are alone. I am alone, for I cannot speak for the loneliness of others - I only know my own. I am not talking about loneliness as this certain moment in time when you are aware no one is around you and your solitude lacks beauty; I am talking about the kind of loneliness where you realize no one will save you, understand you, listen to you, connect with you and see you. This is the kind of loneliness that manifests itself when you exist in your own head. You believe others have a sense of knowledge about you, but just an encounter with them and you see how far off your point of contact is. To them, you are just another person whom is not worthy a second look. We all talk about connection and desire to come together, but we fail to understand how we in fact jeopardize coming together. It takes compassionate curiosity, humor, good energy, open eye contact to make the air unique and inviting to connect. We are able to do so, but we fail to do so. We are afraid of a certain compromise this connection can bring on our solitude and inner selves, for if we open up to others, a part of ourself dies and thus, we remain alone, in our little bubbles of thought unable to reach out.

These bubbles of thought are an ecological manifestation of our personality: they help us become who we are. In them, we thrive, we are who we want to be without the outside world telling us otherwise. We perfect, ruin, build and rebuild notions and narratives of ourself in these safe little bubbles. For a while everything works out fine, until a big rupture happens and the bubble bursts. The world as it is, unfolds itself right in front of us. A world full of sharp edges and dim colors presents itself painfully. A fight, an encounter, a bad email - nothing too dramatic, but something intense. In a fight you see the notions you have build of yourself and the other shattered under the cold lens of reality. That significant others who seems so understanding and we believe they know us, under this lens they become these far distant humans of whom we have no mental relationship with. The moments of rupture are moments of truth.

I don't know what I am blabbering about