ST138 ... Alone alone 'hello'.
Lone observers end up alone
Lone observers end up alone. They see what most can not, won’t. They notice the games that most play unaware. The herd finds it difficult to keep their thoughts silent, the silent watch silently, alone. They keep away from the competition of the crowd. One on one is the most they can allow. Alone but not alone, occupied with the many thoughts arising from the observations noticed. There is seldom a dull moment, reality is full, always presenting more upon more, unimaginable.
He is alone, sitting over there, walking by, traveling in a single seat. Conversations are short and pleasant, to the point, thoughtful, thought-less, thought tarnishing beauty with a soft brush stroke slashing the canvas of life. Alone he moves through waves of opinions as an arrow through dust. Alone the future bows down to meet him, for he, alone, sees clear the movement of change.
There is a lone owl sitting close whispering soft into vacant air that he alone hears. They are two of a kind. A man walks by into a trance of a woman left behind. He is alone also, filling up his day with nights gone by. Everybody is alone somewhere, mostly hidden in the subterranean depths too far away to care. They walk with their chatter and bullied views for everyone to see, everyone to hear.
Alone and quiet the observer observes what most will never observe. Alone he walks away into the strangeness and wonderland of a mad world, down streets few walk, thru alleyways of frightened souls screaming for more, over walls of clashing clones, into the silent forest where he silently speaks, 'hello'.
The alone walk alone and talk alone, and find others alone to be alone together. For they, ‘alone’ feel the absence in all its purity, alone.
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