I am the most pious person in the room. Even though I have no pie – I have pizza, and what can be more virtuous than eating all by yourself?
I’ve never been the most important thing to anybody – not even myself.
Above the sky, everything is beautiful, but alone. (Au-dessus du ciel, – Tout est beau, mais seul)
The person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being. His heart withers if it does not answer another heart. His mind shrinks away if he hears only the echoes of his own thoughts and finds no other inspiration.
Now I no longer wish to be loved, beautiful, happy or successful. I want one thing and one thing only – to be left alone.
How terrible would it be to just wait there pathetically alone for him never to show up?”
Eudoxia’s expression grew more serious. “That’s what you’re doing anyway, my dear.
I fall in love with Paraíso. It’s like a giant playground where I’m never scolded for running around recklessly, where I’m almost overwhelmed with the amount of attention and love I receive from Mami’s family. In New York, I’m invisible.
I am happy to be alone.
Perhaps this is true.
Or perhaps I am the biggest coward of all.
We’re all on each other’s food chain. All of us. It’s an individual sport. Welcome to the meaning of individual. We’re each deeply alone here. It’s what we all have in common, this aloneness.
You are alone,
You speak back to silence.
People call it loneliness,
You call it solitude,
Meaning the same pain.