When I talk about being lonely people like to correct me saying:
„Alone! You mean you are alone....“
But no, I mean lonely.
Being alone is a choice.
Loneliness a state of life that most people don’t choose but get pushed in.
Being different is often the main reason why people feel excluded and therefore lonely.
I love being alone.
Being alone gives me the important feeling of existance.
I very much enjoy my own company.
Sitting in a Café, watching the world passing by, these moments fulfill me with happiness.
But now and then, depending on certain circumstances, loneliness shows his little scary head.
As soon as I don’t have the choice anymore ; that’s when beautiful things around me fade into grey and everything becomes quiet.
Then I realize how lucky people are, that I see sitting with their friends, talking their words away.
Because by the end of the day, once this town gets sleepy and it’s citizens linger home, they know, that the city will never let them down.
There will always be someone to color their world.
They get to choose.
For me it’s different.
Despite being in a new city and discovering it’s beauty and secret spots every day, I can’t choose to meet up with friends.
I have to spend my days alone.
It starts with going to the movies alone.
I don’t mind that at all.
But just the other day, I stood in the middle of an exhibition, holding onto my Asahi beer, wondering around, when I realized how sad I was.
Of course sometimes I get involved in conversations.
It starts with basics questions of my origin and my university degree.
But once we have passed that introductional phase, my respondent very rarely turn out to be more than what meets the eye.
If I do end up meeting people, that make me laugh and we start exchanging numbers, I get shy.
I compose a little text message a few days after, hoping we will meet again.
Sometimes we do, other times we don’t.
And again the sky turns cloudy.
But once in a while, blue color peeks through.
In these moments, someone opens a door to my loneliness and invites me over for some pumpkin lamb and red wine.
But I depend on these moments.
I wish I wouldn’t.
I wish I could enjoy people’s company without thinking about, if I will ever hang out with them again.
Old friends give me that feelin of effortlessness.
Of being myself.
Of just enjoying life.
But they are far away.
So I try to paint some pink and yellow onto my loneliness’ skin, trying to hide it’s grey surface.
But rain and tears blur that attempt and bring back that blend of BLACK and WHITE.