Strange, uncontrollable sadness that surrounds me each day. I;ve always thought that sadness was a much more profound emotion than anything else, because it exists in degrees, and is extremely poignant. But perhaps that’s because I’ve never known anything else. Recently, I’ve met a few people who’ve chose to remain single. In their middle and old age, they seem comfortable and happy with their lives. They talk about the freedom they have, and the lack of commitments and ties that leaves them free to do as they wish. They talk about the empty house that they return to each day, but have grown accustomed to the solitude. For they have friends, and a life that they are content with. Somehow, I’ve been thinking about how it would be to live this way, for something in me tells me that I’m destined for such a life. Carefree and footloose, and yet solitary and lonely. I look around the dark, empty house that I come home to every day. Always alone with my thoughts, for everyone else has their own life; their own friends. As for me, it’s the daily grind of school and training, then back to an empty house, as I sit alone in front of a lighted screen, dreaming of the excitement of the streets at night. Dreaming of the days where I no longer roam alone, and then realizing that I will always be all alone.