But do I really know how to be alone?

I want to turn it off. Turn off the bright vivid distractions in the screens, turn down the tunes from daily mundane life and the calls from the office and turn away the temptations that try and make me believe that I am less than whole and that my attention deserves to be fractured, spread so far out and so thin down that it’s just another smudge in the big outdoor.

In my mind, I try to find the cabin that hides in the back of the woods, the cavern deep down the valley of the mountain range that is my consciousness. The sound of the rushing rivers like intersecting highways around me falsely pull me here or there, keeping my focus never alone but always with, always within, always wanting me to pay some god damned attention to something that doesn’t even matter at all.

I try not to be caught up and try, and try, and try not to follow the bunny trails and capillaries – I want to be thirsty for blood and go straight for the veins or arteries. Poison or clean, I want to be one, not one here and one there, I want to be the vessel. There is no comfort in being alone with oneself if oneself is in a million places at the same time.

The first love is self love, I repeat to myself. The first and main and essential love is self love, for there is no blood in the smaller veins and capillaries if the big artery does not carry it from the heart first.

“So I guess I’ll go home into the arms of the girl that I love, the only love I haven’t screwed up

She’s so hard to please but she’s a forest fire

I do my best to meet her demands, play at romance, we slow dance in the living room, but all that a stranger would see

Is one girl 

swaying alone

Stroking her cheek”

Lorde – Liability

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