When I was first alone, I was lonely;
I'm not always lonely when alone.
Then I thought on "alone",
would I rather be one of a
large Catholic family, at Friday
dinner, in a favela in Sao Paulo;
at a crowded, deadly dull,
evangelical convention;
trying to find the Porto
Vaticano by following a robot like
line of Japanese tourists; or telling
a doctor that I'd end it all, if I
had the courage, and did want to
inconvenience people.
Yes, there are virtues in being alone.
Why not enjoy them?
Tomorrow, someone else who is lonely,
might die in your toilet, a terrorist might
send you a severed finger in an empty
mayonnaise jar.
When you're alone people find ways to
ruin your loneliness. People will be there
for you when you hate them, and
scarce when you need them.
People'll never let you down.
They won't get more cool or sensitive,
with the passage of time.
they will still be destroying
tattered, tortured, souls;
like a butterfly collector
with pins, or a bullfighter
with his epee.
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