Being lonely sucks major ass. I’ll be off to university soon, and when I was sixteen, I would think about my future and scoff at how long I had until I had to be a responsible, mature adult. I swear to God, that time came so fast that I almost missed it. Here I am two years later wondering how the heck I could be so stupid. You see, when a person turns eighteen, something magical is supposed to happen. They’re supposed to suddenly know the answers to all the questions of life; they’re supposed to gain all the skills necessary to navigate as an adult in this fucked up world we live in and above all, they’re supposed to function.
Whenever I walk through the streets of London, there is always one thing I notice more than anything else. Cigarette butts. There are an abundance of them littering the pavements, roads, grass, park benches, tree roots… if you don’t look for them, you can barely see them, but once you start noticing them, you can never stop. What strikes me about this is just how many there are… And how lonely they manage to make me feel. I guess we as human beings are very much the same. Bustling past one another, living in a twisted, barely tolerable harmony, eyes and minds fixated on a singular destination, but we’ve managed to isolate ourselves in the process.
How do people in a planet with the population of over 7 billion manage to feel lonely? Now that I think about it, this is an incredibly stupid feat to accomplish. I mean, correct me if I am wrong, but you would think that somehow, you’d make a friend or you would have someone to talk to.
I settled on the spontaneous decision on calling this blog ‘filthy wanderlust’ because it sums up my opinion on my irresistible urge to wander very simply. I think it’s filthy and horrible, but I can’t get away from it. The more I wander, the more cigarette butts I encounter, the lonelier I feel, and by principal, the stupider I feel. It’s a vicious cycle, and very much like the boy with the umbrella in the image above, it can make me feel like I’m the only one in the world- not in a vain, selfish way… but in a sinister, depressing way.
Vaguely, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, a reasonable voice is vying for my attention. It tells me that I have plenty of friends and family, and I do know that, really, I do. But I ignore it on purpose, because if after all that consolation, I still feel alone… maybe there really is something wrong with me.
You can be lonely, and then you can be what I like to call ‘lonelier than a cigarette butt’, and being the latter takes some rather impressive feats of stupidity and isolation. Which one are you?