Occasionally, unexpectedly, he arrives at a place where he experiences utter joy in his own company.

The feeling is both nostalgic and heartwarming. Here, he loses the clatter of noise that fetters him daily.

Here he remembers himself, the self that only he truly knows.

If he tries to put the feeling into words, he is immediately yanked from his bliss into  lonely despair. What he feels can not be communicated.

The listener intently tries to relate, but instead pushes him further into isolation. No one wishes to be misunderstood.

Solitude is his only real friend.


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