I was just thinking about aloneness. It’s funny how the universe works through what we call coincidence sometimes. It’s like there is something between us all — even when distant strangers.
My thoughts started with this statement/start of a poem:
“I am alone,” cannot be spoken
to anyone without the hint of irony.
One line of thinking that came on strong was how standing before a decision — Frost’s two roads in a wood, is where I am always alone. another voice or presence cannot penetrate the inner will to choose that exists within the walls of a body.
Then, to KNOW this kind of aloneness — to live it — is to be free, maybe for the first time ever. Once a mind grasps the impermeability of the self, our total control of living, is to see the falseness of compulsion.
This is not to say there is never a need for others or that there is not use for criticism — only that one is always free from accepting any outside idea.
Nice poem, Anna Breslin. We were on a relative wavelength.
