Galactic Loneliness

Why is the world such a lonely place, why is it that even though we crave human attention. We search it, get addicted on it, try to find it in every impossible place, yet we cast it away just as easily as we throw away left overs. In this 16 billion world, we feel lonely. Friends once said that, just like their grandma, I might be missing a hormone to make me feel happy when I am social. Truth is, I just think too much, any conversation, friendship, is fleeting and when it's not there, it's not there, just as uncatchable as air.

Do I have to surrender to the addiction of socialisation, give in to nature's need to converse with the world. This might seem so hypocrite to say while I am reaching out to you through this medium. Really, this is just a public journal, as the ones that get published because the writer has nothing better to do than spill out their best kept secrets, hoping that someone finds their love relations of any worth. I cannot speak of love, for I do not love, I cannot love anyone as the wolverine in my head eats anything that creates positive feelings.

Questioning the reality of any living, breathing entity with an IQ higher than 80 is a cruel gene that mother nature has passed on to me. A hard case of galatic loneliness, where not even the 16 billion other human creatures can satisfy my loneliness. It just adds up to this feeling of general solitude. The moons, stars and planets are just rocks, as humans are just made out of flesh and bones, crumbling under the weight of age. What is life worth when there is no goal, no plan, no destination, just the slight warning that in 80 years you will run out of fuel and you will crash into the nearest sun.

So here I am, cruising through the galaxy on my high speed bike and I am not lonelier than I was on planet earth. I wish there would be someone, something that gave me direction, anything. Most of all, I want someone to feel one with, not two and a half, like it has an extra head that suddenly appeared when our molecules crashed together. Perhaps, maybe, my body only gets turned on by water taps, cold smooth and the ability to be turned on and off at my will.