I am lonely

I often feel lonely. Always. My life is only formed from a 3×3 meter room with an air conditioner that occasionally drips water because it leaks. Surrounded by piles of scattered paper. Messy cable. Mineral water. And used tissues that haven't even gone into the nearest trash cans.

Yesterday afternoon. Under the shade of overcast clouds, in the sky that is getting dark and black, to a friend I have considered close, I say: I AM lonesome. I tell you how I feel about people's hearts, those who drew near when we were great and no one visited when we were nothing. I look at humans with a cynical point of view. Sometimes ironic. hyperbole. Personification. Oh, come on, we're not talking about figure of speech. I see humans as a group of creatures who live from one interest to another. When he needed, he was there, when he wasn't, then everything was trash.

Not all really. Some are present in a sincere form, but most are in practice. Your figure exists because you are considered important.

To my friend, I also said that my friends are not many. I didn't know what to spell when I was in that silent hole. I have always lived in a world that is so lonely. My best friends, not in close proximity, except for a few of them.

I need a lot of people who hang out with me not because they need me, but I want someone who really makes me a friend they care about. The problem is that I'm lazy. I'm lazy to build relationships, I'm lazy to start. I was too scared, nervous, insecure to start giving a hand for friendship. Countryman, I'm a loser.

In coffee shops, as I sit, I look into people's eyes, trying to spell out every detail of their retinas, looking at the times they have spent in life. Is there loyalty there, sincerity, solidarity. Whether their smiles and laughter, it comes from years of friendship or just formed from a relationship full of interests.

I envy people who live with lots of friends. People who are always helped by most people.

I am lonely. Among billions of people, maybe my best friend can only be counted on the fingers. I'm introverted, but that's not justification that I don't need people, let alone a real friend. tart