I miss humans.

I am beginning to dislike every corner of my room. Wasting away, I never felt this isolation would be just as sad as being in a crowd full of strangers. My introverted mind cannot take too much of this supposed heaven. What day is it already? My life, as heavenly as it may sound, is now a routine of food, sleep, and unlimited access to virtual entertainments. It ain't bad, but humans were never designed to prolong as lazy living beings.

Feeling so hollow, I'm now imagining myself disintegrating into nothingness. A cluster of dust particles, drifting further and further away, waiting for that time when they'd finally disappear entirely. Such unwanted dust forms. The insignificance is rather astounding, don't you think?

Staring absent-mindedly into nothing. Spacing out of consciousness and sanity. Reminiscing things I never thought I'd salvage from the grasp of forgetfulness. How is it a way of existing? How am I even calling myself a living breathing human? If this is what it means to exist, perhaps I should read myself the poems of life again and again and then maybe I'd comprehend how to make myself rhymes and sing myself lullabies just to stay alive and feel absolutely certain I'm still sane enough to not break down from this boredom.

Anxiety is such a bitch these days.

Being at home feels more like I'm in an abandoned building. What's the point of being physically here when everyone's minding their own businesses, everyone's away, prioritizing jobs, leaving me to forcibly understand that it's for mankind's best that I can't see them before I fall asleep at night and glance at them after waking up every. day. ?

I miss people.

But, the thing is, I'm now beginning to like being this lonely instead.

After all, it's best to accept that things ain't that good for some people. It's just so unfortunate I'm one of them.

I really can't complain, can I?