Nights like these...

Its on nights like these, that it comes back, just for a while, just long enough. Long enough to do something like this. To write, to text, to talk. Words best left unsaid. Thoughts best left forgotten. Hopes best left dead.

But such statements are morose and vague, without any seeming base. But alas, what is tonight but new years eve! Time for people to be around their families, their loved ones, to welcome the next cycle of the Earth's cycle around the sun. A time when those of us who are irreconcilably alone to dwell on our thoughts. To imbibe ourselves to the point, not where we're gone, but to the point where we can see, with a calm and composed mind, the mental habitat which we have dug out for ourselves. And the social manifestations of such housings.

The state of self-imposed, conscience or not, emotional hermitdom, and social death. Such is the state in which I live. I am forever to look out from window upon the world, glancing the concepts of love and companionship from afar, but never quire making them tangible, regardless of attempts made. And even if we wish to break free of this state, it is nigh impossible. In my case, it's because I'm an incompetent idiot whom also suffers from a terrible lack of confidence. The two make for a sorry state.

And yet, as I sit and watch, I yearn so much for the outside. But it doesn't exist. Try as I may, for me, it does not exist. The door opens and chaos comes in before ultimately the darkness engulfs, and all is reset to where it was before.

So it is on nights like these, that thoughts dwell on the door, what lay beyond it, and the sorrow one's existence brings.