I'm getting used to being alone again,
To noiseless evenings, torturing by coolness,
To sickening evenings with their twinkle stars,
Which harshly tear my soul by stuffy stillness.
I'm getting used to being alone again,
Alone with Chopin in all the evenings long.
I fall upon my pillow and shut off,
And in the morning my alarm's 'ding-****'
Well now, hello, my dear, and come in.
Where've you got lost, my sweet and precious friend?
We'll wade through whole life with you, my loneliness,
From this time forth up even to the end.
Loneliness is a very interesting state. I would even say that at times it is very valuable, despite the stuffiness and hopelessness. I appreciate it. Maybe that's why it visits me from time to time. And it is in this state that I can be with myself and myself.
Thank you very much for reading! π