Archive
11/20/09 - (1)
In My Attic
It's been said, or so I've read, That human beings are social creatures, Decidedly in constant need of nurturing and intimacy,
To keep aloneness from being subdued by loneliness. But that claptrap, palaver, balderdash Hasn't held sway with me. It's all bull crap.
I've never felt compelled to seek out companionship, Be it female, same gender, or pet, Always pursued self-reliance, isolation, silence instead.
I've thrived without parents, relatives, wives, lovers, Children, friends, enemies, strangers, Anyone to distract me from my consuming pursuits.
And now that I'm dying, in my attic, I realize how gratifying my liberation has been, How satisfying my independence,
Knowing my spirit owes nothing to anyone, even me, And that my soul will ask nothing of death Except to be left alone.
11/20/09 - (1)
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