#feelingalone

[vincentcalins]

Tu n'es pas difficile à aimer, tu es juste tombée dans un monde où personne n’a pris le temps de te découvrir vraiment.

[sussurros-do-tempo]

Tenho tantas palavras acumuladas, Como livros empoeirados em estantes esquecidas. Cada página, um grito silenciado, Cada linha, uma lágrima não chorada.

Paulo de Brito

[nevergoingaway2025]

[thecheshirecatofwonderland]

I’m NOT Home

I really feel the need to write this tonight. You see, there are times to be comfortable; slipping into pjs and drinking hot tea or wine playing music and finding yourself. 

Then there are times to be honest with one self. Tonight is just that kind of night. 

First and foremost I must say that this, this is being written cause I feel alone. Not because I am actually alone. This Christmas eve I was surrounded by family and complete ignored. I had my “fleabag” moment, like that dinner table scene where he kept narrating how no one asked the MC for 45 min questions about her life. 

For me, this was my night. The only person who did not ignore me was a family member I was not particular close to. But he listed, when he said for me to continue and that he was actively listening to me. I felt relief to know that I was still here. That I wasn't some ghost at the table or invisible. I appreciated that he engaged in my conversation. 

I never felt more alone that coming back to my home town. To coming what I use to call home. For me though, “home” changed, the meaning of what I defined as “home” changed. 

“Home” is no longer a place that I was born in. Home is not where my family is. Home is where I feel at peace. Home is warm, calming, loving; Home listens and answers. 

It is not a place where one should feel like they are in world war III, surrounded  by chaos and concealing pain. That’s not a home, that’s an illness. 

I felt estranged in this place I called called home for years. This is the first year, the first time I didn't consider it home. I now call home the place I share with my friends. My friends I consider more vital than any other relationship. Home is where they are. Where they would include me in conversations. Not where I’ll be ignored. 

Home is not always the place you are born into, sometimes home is where you find it. 

[johnhmcintosh]

FEELING ALONE?

JOHN MCINTOSH

 There is a ‘loneliness’ that pervades dreamers [those that still believe the world/universe as well as their body-mind-identity is real] and the ‘alone-ness’ that embraces those who become Aware that these things are NOT Real. The first … ‘loneliness’, is related to the feeling of being ‘incomplete’. There is a constant ‘nagging’ that simmers beneath the surface of conscious awareness and sometimes erupts into spasms of depression and deep sorrow. It emanates from the ‘loss’ of the Awareness of ONE-ness as it influences every aspect of one’s life experience tied to the belief in separation.

 The second … ‘alone-ness’, could be said to be an aspect of the original ‘impulse’ of the ONE -  SELF that led to the manifestation of ‘the mirror’ the world/universe ‘is’ allowing the SELF [God] to ‘know’ IT SELF. When you experience the Emptiness or Nothing-ness of ONE-ness there can be a feeling of ‘alone-ness’.

 Feeling the ONE-ness of Nothing-ness is also the feeling of Being ONE ‘as’ ‘All That Is’. It is a sublime moment where you ‘as’ the God YOU Are recognizes that nothing is ‘outside’ YOU … and that ‘alone-ness’ is ONE ‘as’ ALL. In this respect the traditionally accepted definition of loneliness dissolves into an ecstatic experience of Truth.

 JUST RELEASED – “THE GREAT SHIFT – Explained”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08795Y7MT

 SUBSCRIBE to John McIntosh’s BLOG

https://www.johnmcintosh.info/subscribe

[sussurros-do-tempo]

Nas sombras do meu ser, murmúrios se perdem, Um diálogo silencioso, uma confissão não ouvida. "Você já contou a alguém como realmente se sente?", Palavras não ditas, na garganta retida.

No labirinto da mente, onde segredos se aninham, Reside uma verdade, crua e sem verniz. Um sentimento sombrio, um desespero que domina, Guardado a sete chaves, no íntimo, se diz.

A solidão é uma companheira constante, Nas horas escuras, um abraço frio e profundo. A alma grita em silêncio, desesperadamente vibrante, Mas na superfície, um mar calmo, sem um som do mundo.

Quem ouviria os ecos de uma dor tão visceral? Quem entenderia o peso de uma alma sem cor? A escuridão se aprofunda, um poço sem final, Nas entranhas do ser, um clamor sem amor.

E assim, entre as sombras, onde a verdade se esconde, Permanece o questionamento, amargo e sem esperança. "Você já contou a alguém como realmente se sente?", Um segredo guardado, uma batalha sem lança.

Na tristeza profunda, onde as palavras se calam, O ser se encolhe, temendo o próprio sentir. Neste mundo de máscaras, onde as almas se afastam, Resta apenas o eco: "Eu nunca soube como dizer."

Paulo de Brito

[higher-than-u]

All ive wanted to do was talk to you these paat few days but you choose to stay quiet.