Loneliness, the state of feeling lonely, describes a human feeling involving isolation, or the feeling of disconnection with others.
I barely feel isolated, I often feel disconnected with others, the more people around, the more disconnected I feel, like a creep Radiohead would say.
Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunlights and makes night air smell better. It allows me to step from the crowd, fly over it and look at all these people.
It was a beautiful summer day at the beach. The beach was crowded, I was feeling lonely and then all of a sudden, the mist came in, the crowd became silent, I started to shoot.
I felt like the Invisible Man, connected to these people, lost in the mist, the kids crying out to their family.
The mist went away as it arrived, in a few minutes. Felt lonely again.
Perhaps to lose a sense of where you are implies the danger of losing a sense of who you are.
I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allen Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie extoplasms.
I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids.
The truth is the light and the light is the truth.
I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows,
it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass.