For almost all my life I’ve never really been alone. Probably for majority of those out there. One could look toward family, or circumstances – the coworker leans back and gives a nod, etc. Barring that, you can technically connect with anyone at all if you wanted to. Keep in touch with friends through school years, intermission years. Between continents or apartments. Even looking out the plane window so the clouds keep you company with the internet disconnected.
When you’re used to the company, maybe you learn to crave it. And inevitably the closeness and tenseness keeps one oscillating between the two. This naturally grows into a neglected fact: straying from the dust we’re returning to. Looking away, averting the graveyard passing by before the highway artery.
And it does fester as fungus does, lines itself along your blood vessels and twitched eyes – sorry sets of eyes all around. The party rages on between all the shifting bodies – looking down so your feet get all twist-tied and lost, a moment’s slip waiting.
It’s ironic to never be alone but feel so discontent. Some would label this loneliness, though it’s the forgotten fungus; it’s the fundamentals: the fact of, as time passes, so everything shifts, and as long as everything shifts, so all the people shift too. Whatever constants and comforts you’re seeking will be snatched. You can’t latch onto the dust we’re all waiting to be.
You can’t latch on to dust, but you can become one with it.
The emptier things are, the more comforting it becomes. Because, after awhile, it can’t get any emptier. Roaming in this world of dust, so you can learn to witness your fingers dissipate as particle in the wind.
Everything becomes magical when you become one with dust. Because rendering it all dust reveals whatever seems eternal within you. If you can learn it and remember it, grow with it, then relationships become the cherries for icing. Something you’ll come by when you ever attend a friend’s wedding.
And the rest of life proceeds so smoothly, no operator needed. As dust, so one sits comfortably alone.