What is it to be lonely? Does one get to a point where one's own presence become something to loathe? Is it odd not to not to ache from this solitude? I have heart grand amouts, but in those moments of silence and desolation. I thrive in thought halting this worlds motion until the fading light if my vision cease. Enveloped by what seems like darkness and stereotypical loneliness. I feel more, I see more.