I star gaze!
Staring into the emptiness of the black night, lost, I wish on the stars.
Those ambitions that foster in the dark are usually the ones which spark a fire to light my soul. Ironic, how the physical loneliness is what fills me with love, strange how the tiny twinkles seem brighter to me than the blazing sun.
I have never been the kind who would enjoy the company of hour glass figures, there’s something about their painted, perfectly shaped nails that just does not appeal to me. I have never been the kind who would enjoy the company of science freaks either, their consistent theories and endless urge to drive facts and figures into EVERYTHING just kills room for fictitious possibility. Introverts are too silent, they bore me, extroverts talk too much, they bore me. Artists are always too lost to start a conversation with and sportsmen too proud to listen to what I have to say. I am who you would call ‘antisocial’ …….. I call myself The Nobody.
My asociality is not the outcome of my lack of confidence or shyness, it is the outcome of not being able to relate with a kind.How do I speak to the real life barbie dolls if I cannot differenciate between their lipstick shades, how to relate with someday Einstein if I do not care about the whys and hows of everything. I don’t know, maybe it’s an art I haven’t mastered yet.
So at this point, you might have concluded that I am a lonely soul ranting about the loneliness I created for myself. But, is loneliness defined as the lack of physical beings to surround yourself with? I don’t know. I like to define loneliness as the lack of ways to release your emotions in a world where you can be surrounded by a billion ears without any paying attention. By my definition, I am not lonely. All my emotions are out there, they aren’t travelling through ear canals, they are travelling through the night sky, the universe, they travel to the moon and I don’t know where next. All I know is that it is soothing; it is more satisfying to have faith in emptiness, nullness, in the darkness than to rest my trust in those billion treacherous ear canals.
That being said, I often wonder, am I really The Nobody? I could be the artist for I too am lost in a world that may or may not exist, I could be Miss high fashion, low IQ because I think I am different for acting like a mad man, talking to empty spaces. Am I the geek obsessed with astronomy, the introvert who doesn’t talk to people or the extrovert who talks to people enough to know what they behave like?
Staring into the emptiness of the black night, I would never know.