I walk alone.

Perhaps it is the weather. Perhaps it is the waking up at 8am expecting dried clothes, only to find them soaked in condensation. Perhaps its the frigid cold of the library. Perhaps its the built up stress of marine looming in the background. Perhaps it is the need to train that nags endlessly. Perhaps it is the term break that I am denied. I feel I walk alone today. So alone.

The irony: to be amidst people you know, yet feel more alone than being by yourself. To meet familar faces, yet avert glances because you are weary of small talk. To be surrounded by events you are not privy to, to be there, and yet not. I feel so alone today.

I feel I drifted thru the halls as a ghost would - there yet not really there. As if I tread a parallel universe; as if I am cloaked in invisibility. Alone in a crowd. Somehow, when I took my tea REALLY alone, I actually felt more comforted. As that warm liquid filled me from within, as I looked at the greenery, I felt alive.
Yet, that moment would not last, and I trudge once more back to the realms of the lifeless.

I think I have killed my frens. To them, I had chosen death. Dead to them, for I will always float away. Dead to them, for I will only haunt, but never truly be with them. Perhaps that is the best. Perhaps I had been wrong all along. Or perhaps I should just resign to my fate and be the unwilling bonobian.

Why seek the sun, what you are a creature of the night? Why try to fly when you have webbed feet and gills? I walk alone. My way, my path. Dead to all, alive to myself alone. Deadened to all, to engulf all by the de minimis rule.