I stand alone, but I feel a presence around me.
But I’m still shrouded in a bland abyss, I look down. I didn't need anyone.
Walking some people say I took forever to, the pill won't work anymore for me.
Peoples voices were static around me, static you would find listening to the television error.
To my terror someone touched my shoulder, pictures and sounds slowly coming into reality.
First the hand, the scenery then the person came into view, he was a chipper man wearing a tie.
The man asked how my world was, I didn't want to cry.
So I shook my head and tried to walk away wishing static, alone, and error.
But he persisted, pointing at the sun and the clouds, and nature to the right, I couldn't atone for it.
I insisted that I'd be nothing but in solitude, walking to the city to find my home.
I didn't need anyone's pity, I hung my coat, grabbed a coke from the cooler.
Sitting in the arm chair in the shadow, never needing a soul, except for the TV which had mine.
Picking up the remote, as if I didn't have time.
Everything returning to picture-less static returning to the beginning of my solitude.
The only show being playing although with no picture, was the one in my head.