Float on Down the Infinite Regress

Who is this reflected face staring back at me and what is this elusive thing she so desperately wants to see? The center breaks down when I attempt to perceive that I call 'me'.

A Confessional.

One who is so frequently solitary cannot hope to capture the hopes and fears of a reckless society. There are many who associate and in such association find comfort. I wander and wonder and slowly the pain creeps in, the remedy for which seems nothing but another dose of solitude. Such is a life of desperately seeking others who seem to revel in the speculative and at times dark comforts of the self. It's been so long since I've formed anything near what can be called a friendship. I too often fade, too often stray into the background from whence I came and never truly make anything with such confinement. Still, spending hours aimlessly staring while hoping to capture those minute fleeting thoughts feels natural in comparison to those constructed pleasantries. It comes far too easily, noticing every nuance within that man or woman's smile. A hidden malice or their feigning courage to cover an infinite gap within the soul. We are all so maddeningly severe yet perhaps in the dark of night we find ourselves within a similar, collective thought. Despite all pulls and potential niceties, despite the comforting solace one might find in another, I find myself pulling away after so many days. Still, there is no lack of love for my fellows, though at times a bitter taste fills for those living under an ignorantly plastered guise, though I am no less. If you find another who seems to yearn for such a quiet life, then by all means ask them to please stay. Yet like sweet words whispered which carry little meaning beyond the moment, so many do not choose such a life and do only within fable. It seems I shall stay forever in my lonely bower.