I am not entirely alone of course. Kim and I see things from a common viewpoint.
And the birds here know me now, as I am.
And seeing from same eyes, … friends on Facebook convey that miracle at times.
But Facebook does not really value the beginnings of my writings I put out, which is, to the best of my self-knowledge the creative value I have to the world beyond.
The FB algorithm does not promote my work. My play. Not many even see the pieces I think.
Sometimes I just don’t care. My writings can go to the grave with me. They are what they are. Some may see me as a negative energy. I see salvation in every moment. But I digress. The main point I wanted to make is:
Aloneness is the experience of having one’s perception ignored or invalidated. And aloneness is also the acceptance of that.
Let’s go with that. Please ignore the Prelude.
And the Afterlude is:
I love to write the way I write. I am not like that other writer. Thank you. I consider my writing my offering. Perfect as it is. And usually nobody reads it.
I wish more people appreciate the creative pieces I share, eg The Old Man and the Cup. I think 5 people liked that. I am a long way from my Nobel prize. But who cares. I will stop complaining now.