Lonely

Isn't it a funny thing to feel lonely? Is that the dominant feeling, or is it more like fear, or dread, or sadness, or emptiness, or disbelief, or grief. I find it so strange that I can go through a week surrounded by people, conversation, strangers, friendly faces, silly jokes, come home to warmth and dreams and surreality, someone else's life almost. And then I wind up here, sitting on my couch, weeping, wanting the day to be over, fearing the next day, wanting so much for something but wanting the exact opposite at the exact same time. I do not know what I want. Is that a true statement? I want to want nothing, to mourn for nothing, to long for nothing, to miss nothing, to regret nothing. God the feelings are so strong, like they could shoot out of my stomach or just beneath my heart, like I could project them loudly with my vocal chords, and they would be rich and mournful sounds, wailing, beautiful.

I wonder how they would sound to Richard's ears. Would he fall in love with them or would he find them too disturbing? I think he would like them, he would see beauty in them, he would tell me to record them. At first he'd find them too dark, too melancholy, but he would come around.

I don't know what to do with myself when I get like this. Other than go to sleep and pray for release for tomorrow.