Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles

Loneliness. Loneliness on a vast shore with no people. No wind shuffles the sails on the mast. Not even the water stirs.
Loneliness on a highway that brooks no traffic. No people. No cars. Just some lonesome music and a clear, straight road. Clouds in the distance on someone elses land. Maybe there people are sitting together looking out their windows, marvelling at the shapes the clouds make. At the shades of grey, at the turning breeze. At the moisture in the air. May there they smile as they slowly enjoy the intimacy that that serendipitous moment grants them.
Loneliness in a room full of people. Buzzing of words, like bees in a bonnet. Many many people, so much noise. Laughter from every corner that resonates off others but falls mute on nearing you. A smile that reaches the corners of your lips, but can not cover the disdain that nestles there. A smile that rarely touches your eyes. And even then, it comes momentarily when your guard slips. Don't think I didn't see. I saw. But you were quick to cover it.
You were talking words but nothing was being said. Its your style now. I know it when you do. I think I am the only one who does. You justify phone calls. And you resign yourself with 'this is life'. But you don't have a comparison. How do you know what is life. You haven't seen it yet.

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