What are the things we do alone?
I mean really alone. Those moments when nobody’s looking. Nobody in the vicinity. Where nobody can hear you scream.
Please don’t share your answers. I like sleep.
I’ve been thinking about the lonely things we do. The things that keep us busy in those silent hours. Those late nights when the rest of the house is in slumber. Those early mornings when zs still waft from bedrooms. Before the sunshine. A sick day at home with the flu. Nobody to care for you. All gone to work.
No outside influence tells you what to do. Only you. What is it that you do?
Don’t answer that.
What have you done alone that you now do with people?
I realize now that there are a few things I used to do completely alone, lost in my own little world. Practicing for that moment to bare it to the world.
That must be passion.
Wanting to show the world what you do when you’re alone.
It’s scary. There’s a piece of soul woven into each and everything. All those hours spent doing whatever it is. Now open to critique, hatred, love, or even apathy. That poor soul can only take so much. But it can grow.
So sit down and do what you do. Pour that blood into it. Cut off a few limbs for it, unless you need them. Crack your soul into tiny little pieces and spread them around.