A Night Alive

before i crawl and nestle my way into the sheets in which i sleep, i want to say that i am lonely.

i am lonely not for a single person, not for a single thing, but just lonely. it's not depressing. it is not an uncomforting feeling, it is just, i guess, a certain vulnerability that i wish i was not exposed to.

i live in a house with four others. none of them are home, or, for that matter will probably sleep here tonight. this will make two out of the last three nights. at first glance, i find this to be a cause for great jubilation. however, there is a quiet comfort in knowing someone else is in my house along with me. tonight, that quiet comfort is disrupted by the clanking and monstrous sound of the furness. the wind slapping its cold frigid air against my window. and the rhythm of the cars and the music their horns as they pass on the street below.

despite being alone, i am very much surrounded.