Solus...




Alone. It’s an adjective that describes a state of mind, the state of the soul, and the empty void inside one’s heart. One, just like alone, but without the fancy garnishes of the first and twelfth letters of the alphabet. It’s of no coincidence, since you become naturally one with the void. You are alone.

Alone. It’s when the kettle boils in the inhumane hours of the night to mask the tears that your heart bleeds. It’s when it’s annoyingly loud around you, but even that can’t cause the slightest of ripples in the eerily empty sea of emotions inside your soul. It’s when your thoughts echo inside your brain, going from one side to another, smacking the sides of your mind in a silky smooth manner, as if rehearsed. 

Alone. It’s when your thoughts take over amidst the noise, not only to silence each and every sound daring to enter your mind through the gates, but also to strip them from their voices. It’s when those thoughts choose how to interpret such noises and deliver them using their own vocals, abiding by a detailed and an utterly well written script. There’s no escape from it.

Alone. It’s always this constant lingering feeling of ache that was born from the impulse of thus void that’s eating up the space inside of you. A space that should’ve been filled with love and contentment, but is instead filled with the nothingness that expands like a French colony, terrorising the emotions that are left, and leaving an inevitable permanent mark that’s bound to stay for all eternity.

Alone. It’s the disappointment that forced itself in your daily routine, it’s something which vows to be religiously practised. It’s the fear that haunts you when the least bit of an exciting news comes your way and a truly agonising and a certified nerve wrecking machine is what it is.

Alone. You’ll always synch the sound of the tears hitting the epidermis of your cheeks with the sound of the kettle boiling in the inhumane hours of the night, and you’ll grow to master such an act.

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