The Quiet Footsteps of Loneliness

I have been thinking about loneliness. It is almost a mythical thing unless someone tells you that they are experiencing loneliness. It's not really a condition but it's sad. At the same time it's subtle and delicate, it creeps and doesn't make a lot of noise.

I feel the physical way the brain deals with loneliness is kind in a way. The way sometimes you pass out if you are in too much pain or fall asleep from crying so much.

If you are feeling and experiencing loneliness you start to forget what real friendships felt like, the thought and feeling of them dulls, until you can't remember them too much - the immediacy of it is taken away, extracted, slowly seeped out . You're happy with watching TV at night, maybe you have a hobby like collecting trains or reading. All of these physical things become friends. A good tv show is a nice chat. A book can feel like a warm embrace. Trains whizzing around may fill you with the excitement of a kiss. Holidays and weekends aren't long enough for you to dwell on the loneliness too much. Work is so much of a drain that the evening seeps luxury not emptiness.

It is only sometimes, in an extra quiet moment, you truly engage with the loneliness itself. When distractions are taken away, when you have to touch the centre of the ache. I think a lot of people are lonely. If I am walking home from work at night I glance in windows and the erratic light of the television is flickering on people's faces, just about every single house this is happening. I say this with a detachment but if they walked past my window they would probably see the glare of it on mine.

I have made a really good friend recently and I only realised how lonely I was only after this friendship was conceived. I wasn't desperately lonely but that's because I feel my brain numbed to the desolate nature of my life, the loneliness just became a gentle thud.

Euphoric Fear

It is strange. Before an event I cannot contemplate it happening, I don't seem to feel excitement subsequently and I am not filled with much wonder.

Throughout my exams at college I hardly did revision as I never believed the exams were real. They always felt dream-like. If I were to turn up for my exams and they said I am imagining things, I think I would have believed them. I think it was something to do with euphoric fear. Exams can be quite scary things, so much so that they seem from another world. This could be my brain's escape route.

I am going to see "Sleuth" at the theatre this evening but it is just a thought. I don't look forward to it, I don't wonder what will happen, whether it will be good. The thought is vague and misty, at the back of my head and it will stay there.

I seem to only to appreciate things properly in the aftermath. I look back and become filled with appreciation and happiness at the nice events that have happened. Although the past doesn't really exist, it feels more solid than the present and future. Maybe everyone experiences things like this, I just haven't spoken to anyone about it. :P

The whole of life seems a dream, it is so real and realistic, that it must be more of the dream world than the real world.

Quiet Friendships

Quiet friendships. What I love about these friendships is the way they glow. They are without words, without the same formalities as other friendships, just a silent feeling. It is similar to the feeling one gets when they hold a hamster or a small creature; the intensity of it; how delicate and small but overwhelmingly precious.

It began when I was working Wednesday and Thursday nights. After I had finished I walked under the black sky to the bustop to go home. My bus took a little time to come and before it did, another bus arrived and five people got off and waited with me for the bus. Four were male and one was female.

Every week this happened. The same five people. I wondered where they were going to or coming from at this hour and it must be something rather specific since every week we all caught the bus at the same time. Like lions roaming the pavement, probably just like myself: Restless in the cold, sharp air. Looking at their watches and the sky. Staring at their shoes and gazing at the bright river of cars.

When the bus finally arrived they tended to rush on before me, even though I arrived first (I didn't mind, though). But the one girl always made a point to let me on first. She would take a step back and gesture to me to get on the bus, making the other people wait until I had, if she managed to get to the front first. She would smile and then I.

For the next few weeks, this would happen often. She would always let me get on before her and I thankyoud her with a smile. She had brown curly hair and looked exempt from any sort of fashion which made her even more alluring and mysterious. She wore a backpack, blue jeans, a black jumper and Dr. Martin's shoes.

I would get off the bus before everyone else which left me always wondering where they were going to or coming from. On the bus everyone would stare into the middle distance, lost in thought possibly, or staring out of the window into the night. I have never heard her voice or any one of the other's, but this friendship remains precious to me all the same.

Shop Work

Working in a Supermarket can be a bland experience, glaring at the tick of the clock as the time doesn't pass. But it is not the worst job. There are certain elements which are fascinating and scary. Things which seep in between the general thud of working.

The fact that it's a sociable job is one reason I enjoy it. The potential for a conversation with a complete stranger is rather exciting and many are very talkative. Customers being horrible is sometimes true, but many I find to be very nice.

The majority of people I work with are very nice too. There is someone my age I think, who also works with me, and if he's on the till in front or behind I can hear him ask every customer "How has your day been today?" with a variance of "What are you upto this weekend?", over and over he repeats with the same enthusiasm each time. I admire his friendly and open nature and some customers sound a little surprised that someone would ask such a straight-forward question about their day.

Sometimes I'm really open and sometimes a little shy. It flows in waves like the tide coming in and out. I can't control it and I surprise myself when I speak to customers with such ease and openness and then become frustrated that I couldn't accept their invitations for conversations such as Huge Sighs and "That's a good offer, isn't it?" or "Just getting a few holiday bits"

One thing I find fascinating is that I feel I've discovered all of the people I would never usually see or be around - the nine to five workers, girlfriends and boyfriends kissing whilst queing,
people from other countries who haven't learned english, young mums and dads, older mums and dads. I have never really integrated with them before and now I do all the time
for a brief moment.

I have started to become fond of some of the regular customers. There is an old lady who looks quite sweet. She wears a long mustard yellow coat and wears a cat brooch. Her
shopping bag is covered in cats as well. She always buys cat food and I am always tempted to speak about cats with her, but she seems a very quiet and peaceful lady tottering along.

There is also an old man who comes to my till a lot. He speaks of how he lost his wife and how hard it is for him. He must be quite lonely now because every time he returns he will tell me again.

The one element I find scary is IDing people. It is now Challenge 25 which is difficult, considering Challenge 21 was a challenge for me. I ID some young looking woman and she turns out to be in her thirties. People in their twenties sound offended and shocked to be asked and then exclaim their age in a "you are being ridiculous" type way. I have started to mind less however, and many people are okay with id-ing. Sometimes I ID late thirties people and they are over the moon.

Supermarkets for most people are very in-between places. A stop-off before continuing with the rest of one's actual life, filled with deep emotion and profound experiences. But sometimes I wonder whether going to the Supermarket is the most significant and sociable part of the day for some people. The offers. The small talk. Being asked "Do you want any help packing?". Four for a pound. Reduced to clear. Free samples. Mix and match. Far more interactive and alive than a television. A nightclub for the lonely.