Sitting alone. Ever alone. Staring out into that endless void of contemplation. Knowing that you are completely helpless alone. Ever alone. And being one with the loneliness, leaves you to sit in this shell of emptiness, ever reaching, ever hoping, never knowing.

Thoughts stretch out across the infinit chasm that is your mind. Wondering if in this forever state of Solitude, if others have traveled into the realm of the same loneliness, and if so, are we truly ever alone?

One cannot help but dwell upon this narcissistic need to have thoughts that are completely of One’s Own doing. But if every thought has been thought before, one can never truly be alone, even amidst the empty loneliness that is your room. Your contemplation begins maddeningly to unravel. In the simplest sense, I think therefore I am, can never be achieved, knowing that the thought has been thought by someone else.

Sitting alone. Ever alone. Now drawing upon the conclusion that one is never truly alone, if one’s thoughts have been thought before, you realize the loneliness you feel has been perfected by so many. Stretching deep into that bottomless void you can never achieve the contemplation you desire. Knowing that your thoughts are not your own, knowing that I think therefore I am, has been found to be invalid, do you continue contemplating?

Or do you cease, give up, finding there to be no point even to put your words down on paper. You are left with an emptiness like you have never felt before. And you realize that you are truly, alone. Ever alone.