Book: Loneliness

Heaviest I feel loneliness when you open your heart to another because of the insurmountable barrier is getting to me then even better. Here he is in front of me, looking at me a clear view, but the soul behind those eyes, inaccessible to me. He listens to me. What was he thinking? Yes, what he thinks? Do you understand how terrible it is? What if he hates me? Or despises? Or mocking me? He ponders my words, condemns me, condemns, decides that I'm limited or stupid. How to find out what he thinks? How to know if he loves me like I love him? What thoughts complete this round as a ball head?

For some time I was tormented by the cruel consciousness of a terrible loneliness in which I live and from which no, I hear you, there is no salvation! No matter what we do, no matter how rushed, whatever the passionate impulse of our hearts, the call of the lips and the fervor of the embrace, we are always alone.

Sometimes I think he was right, sometimes he's lost his mind.

What is torture, constantly in contact with those whom we do not understand!

I now retreated into myself and not talking to anybody, what I believe, what think like. Knowing that I am condemned to the brutal solitude I look at the world around me and never Express their opinions. What do I care about human opinions, strife, pleasures, beliefs! I can't share with others and lost interest to everything. My inner invisible world is not available to all. On ordinary questions I answer in generalities and a smile that says "Yes" when I have no desire to waste words. Do you understand me?

I myself, no matter how much I try to surrender to the whole, entirely, to throw open wide the doors of my soul, I can't open until the end. Somewhere in the depths, in the depths of the stash remains one of my "I" where there is no access to anyone. No one can find it, get into it, because nobody looked like me, nobody understands. And you, do you understand me now? No, you think I'm crazy! You see me, fear me! You think: "What's with him today?" But if ever you suffer, unravel until the end of my horrible refined flour, come and say: "I understand you!" And you will make me happy even for a moment.

What an unfathomable mystery is the unknown thought of another man, hidden and free thought which we can neither discover nor to guide or to subdue or to overcome!

We love as if we were chained close to the wall, and we spread each other's hands, but can't connect. Painful need of a full merger tormented us, but all our efforts useless, gusts vain, barren of recognition, hugs powerless, futile caresses. In an effort to merge, we are drawn to each other and only hurt each other.

We are further apart than the stars of heaven, and most importantly, more fragmented, because the idea is unfathomable.

I feel like every day I am deeper down into the gloomy dungeon walls I can't put my finger on the end of it, I do not see, and he does not have to be the end! I'm going, and nobody goes with me, near me; alone, without companions, I do this dark path. This dungeon - life. Sometimes I heard voices, shouting, noise... I'm groping their way towards the muffled sounds, but I don't know where they come; I never meet anyone in this darkness holds out her hand. Do you understand me?

I talk, you listen, and we both are alone, we are close, but we are alone. Do you understand that?

Blessed are the poor in spirit, the Scripture says. They think that they are happy. They, these poor in spirit, incomprehensible to our lonely, longing, they do not wander through life like me, not knowing the other location, except for fleeting meetings, knowing no other joy except the doubtful satisfaction of what I saw, understood, solved and gained the consciousness of our eternal irreparable fragmentation.

- Poor people! They inspire me not disgust, and immense pity. Of all the mysteries of human existence I've figured out one: most of all we suffer in life from eternal loneliness, and all our actions, all the efforts are intended to escape from it. And they, the lovers, perched on benches under the open sky, like we, like all living creatures, strive at least for a moment not feel alone; but they, like us, will always be alone.