Why of this blog

The world is full of lonely people. Plenty walk on the streets, worried about their jobs, their obligations and their loneliness. In silence with themselves, that morning thick and sticky sensation at the bottom of the throat and the awakening to the day by day life.

The world is full of solitary people that secretly seeks to find the dreams of hope and mystery, of life and sex. Seeking desperately to please this necessity of life, hoping day and night.

This world of 8 billion human beings, 8 billion minds who in their life while being kids, were asking questions about the world, seeking for answers about life, observing with happiness and joy. At some point find themselves surrounded by "others", their friends, in a ruled world of the mind and self awareness. No questions to mom, or dad, no candles to touch or excitement and allurement for being alone with themselves.

Lonely human between humans, adventurous it goes and hides with others away from the concepts, the rules, the stereotypes, the banning of pleasure and the banning for life, to revive old passions in the body of adults. Loneliness they escape from their ties to the regular world, boyfriends or girlfriends, feelings with no spark, to feel the excitement with someone else, someone unknown or someone deeply desired, or someone who figuratively represents a banned pleasure for the moral mind or the body.

Hidden, laughing in secret, smiling in the shadows, they are not seen nor judged by others. Just finding joy with themselves and the adventurous hope to make a dream come true at least for a couple of hours or minutes. Like in the Opera when lights are dimmed, and the music rides your nerves, jiggling for yourself with the stage and the story itself in the dark. Just the same like in bed when the "unknown" touches your naked body or you dare to touch its strange body, the smiles and kisses, are kisses for yourself from yourself, that disappear with no trace after the cenit passes twelve.

Memories remain in the fog of the morning, the message was delivered, the pleasure was enacted and the music has disappeared as well as the lips and touches of the "unknown" shadow, or you as a shadow, of that reflection in the mirror of that mistake.

Dispair for not making it eternal, dispair for not being real, joy and excitement to think is going to happen again in the future, maybe already planned, dispair to realize that the fantasies from the opera stayed in the stage not in your life, dispair with the loved after having taking the shower and realizing that the fantasies with the shadow are kept in a long and guilty silence in a long and guilty sewed mouth.

Coming back to life, to the lonely life becomes heroic. And realize that nothing is lost, realize that you are still alive, realize that the rythm of life has been kept, and superficially realize that your beloved who missed you that night still loves you, makes you feel truly loved and not alone. Comfort is part of your new beginning, for a second at least in your lonely life again. A stereotipical comfort, a vaporous and treachorous memory corroding your comfort from the base is that shadow who resides in the impulse of being lonely again to repeat the story once again.

I can't lie to myself, I can't lie to my friends. The reason to write this blog is not to feel lonely, this is my pleasure and my mistake, this has become my opera instead of my shadow. This is the escape of a lonely life to a state of aloneness itself with which I want to tell the world I am alone and But I am part of it too.