I’m Lonely. Are you? Let’s Have A Conversation.



It’s Friday night, and I am typing this at 2AM.

Hello, fellow human being.

This is going to be a ramble. After all, ahem, I am Dreamerrrambling. In fact, you can just imagine it as a conversation with me, albeit rather one-sided. Well, I’m feeling lonely and bored, and if you’re feeling the same, then maybe this could help you feel less lonely and bored?

I do sometimes wish we could meet in person and talk though. Maybe I could push myself through my computer screen and reappear in yours, like some kind of interweb portal, head and neck protruding, pixelated from the waist down. Too creepy? Sorry.

This is probably going to be long and boring and discursive, as conversations sometimes can be. Especially one-sided ones. Yes, I will probably repeat myself. It’s going to be a stream-of-consciousness sort of thing. I know my thoughts don’t matter, not really, and that I’m just one organism in a sea of voices who happens to be born in a time period where I can splatter my neurological manifestations across a worldwide platform based on symbols constructed by human beings that resulted in the preservation of knowledge and the creation of literature and the mapping of human life and the human condition and –

There we go. Just gave you a dose of a typical thought current of mine. One seminal thought catches the back of my neck like a Bo-peep crook, and I’m off. So. I know that my identity has been very private on this blog, how I look, my age, and whatnot, and I do want to keep it that way. But also know how lovely it is sometimes to see your bloggers, to know what they look like, you know what I mean? But I haven’t put any pictures up, in case anyone in my circle of acquaintances finds this blog and then reads all of my inner secrets. Anonymity is kind of a necessity, at least until I leave all institutions and go live a hippie life in the forest. Until then, no photos. But I like to think that it’s my soul you guys see through these words, because most people are not like what they look like on the outside anyway. But, if you want to give your imagination a little kick, I don’t think I’m particularly ugly, and I don’t think I’m very pretty either. I’m just…extraordinarily average? I have black wavy hair up to my elbows and dark eyes. I’m not sure how to describe my other features, other than relatively pleasant in dark lighting (such as in bathrooms), and relatively boring during the day.

Look at me. Talking about myself. Yadiyadiyada. I hate being egotistical, and part of the reason why I try so hard to please others, and think about others, and love being empathetic and caring and loving and helpful, is because every time I stroke my own ego or comfort myself, I find myself odious. Because I know I’m an insignificant organism, and that the best thing I can possibly do is to unleash some art into the world and help other souls. I don’t know. When I feel like I have touched someone, who is perhaps on the other side of the world, reading my words, I feel like I could die of happiness, cry tears out of my fingertips.

I just finished watching the Corpse Bride a few minutes ago, and there’s this deliciously painful bittersweet feeling in my chest. The movie was so lovely, lovely, lovely, so wonderfully imaginative and strange I wanted to weep with happiness, and so touching, so full of humanity. Don’t you both love and hate that feeling? It’s like nostalgia. It’s like when you fall in love with a movie or book character, and feel that bittersweet sense of separation, the barrier of reality.

Actually, I did kind of fall in love with a character from the movie. The man in the movie, by the name of Victor, was incredibly endearing in his awkwardness and gentleness and politeness. I combed the internet a bit after watching it, and found many people found his character distasteful, too flimsy and spineless. Which got me thinking about the personality traits that attract me, as a idealistic, introverted and sensitive female. I mean, sure, looks are important to an extent, but for me, the person, the person is the most important thing.

Problem is, I often find myself idealizing people from afar, which usually results in me ‘falling in love’ with egotistical, extroverted guys. It’s so strange. Deep down, I know they are uncaring, not gentle, selfish, and completely wrong for me, yet my idealism hones in on that one time they patted a cat, or uttered a single kind word. There’s also the fact that I am attracted to extroverted, confident men sometimes because they hold traits that I do not have, and occasionally admire or am envious of. But what kind of man do I really seek? I think the truth is, someone like me. Someone just as idealistic, sensitive. Perhaps a little tougher, a little more grounded, but still able to experience the depth of emotion I sometimes experience. Still able to know and see the things I see. Another fellow old soul, perhaps.

I have not met a single person in real life who has been like that. And of course, awkwardness is endearing. I don’t find it off-putting at all – I’m pretty awkward myself. But kindness is honestly the most attractive trait on earth. I don’t know how to stress it, but kindness, it just melts my heart into a puddle of toffee goodness. I love, love, love kind people in general, not just kind men. Sometimes, I wish I could be kind to everyone I meet, help and love everyone I meet, but I end up repelled by the brusqueness and unkindness and cold indifference of most of the population. So I just retract my inner Mother Theresa and become hardened like everyone else. It hurts. I have so much…stuff inside my heart, and I want to give it out, I want to heal and touch souls, make them shine, until I collapse, but I don’t have an outlet at the moment. I suppose if I ever did have a child, I would pour all of these caring feelings into him or her.

I want to have children, one day. I think that will make me very happy. I actually love children, and their purity and loveliness, but if you spoke to me in real life, I would scorn them and denigrate them as being messy little buggers who are good for nothing. Because of my family issues, of having a terrible father who did not care for me, did not love me, and left my mother with nothing, and turned her into the pitiful, working-to-the-bone person she is today, and I have trouble introducing the idea of love and marriage into my plans for the future. But I’m romantic as hell. My soul yearns for romance, but the hardened exoskeleton, formed through years of heart-pain and crying into pillows and seeing my mother degenerate before my eyes, stops me from hoping, screams at me to not hope, because I’ll only choke on a bloodied heart. I’m nearly crying just typing this. I so want to love, to give myself up one day, to a significant other, to the prospect of happiness, but I’m so scared, like you wouldn’t believe, of putting in my all and having it taken away from me, and being left a shell of a person like my mother. That would break me, snap my soul in half, scatter the metaphysical shards into oblivion. 

Ah. To live is to suffer. All words and thoughts slice through me with the pain of knives through flesh. Sometimes, I have romantic fantasies, like meeting someone who understands me in a bookshop, or even contacting someone through this blog, and then meeting in real life and eventually dating and then…a happily ever after. But I know they are just daydreams. That all I’m truly left with, at the end of the day, are my own thoughts, my own consciousness and body, and my words, my writing, my books. That’s what truly matters for me, at the end of the day, and I hold onto art so much, so much, even if it feels like I sometimes fail it. Even if sometimes, while writing, I feel like a monkey ripping out the pages of Shakespeare, trying to understand it while chittering and scratching my armpits. Like I’m too bad at writing to even deserve to write, that I’m never going to make it, that my stories are worthless, that I’ve got this creativity, this writing thing, sure, but it’s mediocre, and it’ll never take me anywhere.

But I can’t think that. Even if it’s true, I can’t think that. I have to believe in myself, because then there would be no point in living. Even if it’s true, I will make it false. That’s just the human spirit. We fight for so much, fight it with every fibre and cell of our being, sell our blood and use our bones to make furniture, and yet we’re still so little, yet all our efforts are still tiny little ant-scramblings on a tiny blue dot of a dust mote in the universe. Yet I can’t stop, because this is all I have. I am small, I am nothing, but I still keep on going, because there is nothing else I can do. The ants go on carrying food to their nests, even if they have an existential crisis, because it’s all the can do, we’re born to do, we’re made to do.

There’s so much we don’t know, and will never, never, never know. Perhaps there is a race of greater beings who look down on us the way we view ants. Perhaps they snack on galaxies for breakfast and swallow entire universes for dinner. Perhaps this entire universe like a water droplet in their world. It’s so big, so unknowable, and we can’t know. All we can do is live, and live, live, live, live, live, live, live, live…until we stop living. And then other people will come and live for us. And they will stop living. And it will continue until all life ends. And does anything matter, then? Will life still exist in some other universe, forms created out of complex molecules entirely different from those of amino acids, so they are like electronic creatures, or something else entirely, made of light or water, or perhaps not even life, perhaps an animation, an understanding, an awareness, dreams incarnated? I don’t know, and there is no point in thinking about it, because we will never, ever know. Live.

I’m going to wrap this up, because I feel unbearably tired. If you’ve read this far, I thank you. I don’t know. I just. Want a hug. I think that’s what I lot of people need. Just a hug, a kiss. To say that you are a worthy human being, to me, and I love you. And I know that if I say I love you all, it will sound pretentious and lame, so I won’t, even though I do. Well, I love the nice people among you guys. I’m not particularly fond of narcissists, or serial killers, or unkind people, so, not all, sorry.

Here’s to love, here’s to hope, here’s to romance, here’s to the beautiful souls out there who understood this post (and perhaps one beautiful soul who could be a potential partner, one day), here’s to not feeling lonely, here’s to more movies like Corpse Bride, and, finally, here’s to living.




27 thoughts on “I’m Lonely. Are you? Let’s Have A Conversation.

  1. Really well-written! Particularly liked: “One seminal thought catches the back of my neck like a Bo-peep crook” – great stuff! I know I’ve said this before, but you remind me so much of my younger self (I am assuming you are late teens, early 20s – but could be wrong!), and I can give you hope. There is hope. I have been with the kindest, most sweetest man for 15 years, after I’d given up hope of ever finding someone like him. They turn up when you least expect them. They do!

  2. Curious and beautiful. Your writing was so limpid that I felt great empathy about your loneliness. However, I felt that I have no right to say anything. You kindly told a little about yourself, so to be fair, I’ll tell a little about me.

    Although I’m not always alone, I do feel lonely too. Is this some kind of loneliness epidemy? We’ll never know… in the depths of introversion, I learned to tolerate darkness and solitude. (Un)fortunately, happiness is something that I no longer pursue. I do have a few friends. In our relationships, I’m capable to bend and mingle approximately 90% to them and their interests, but I don’t like to please people for the sake of it. Unless I have some tricky idea to show a new perspective or try to persuade them about something I do believe. However, barely anyone can understand me. Maybe because I hold very radical views of life. And I realized that those views sometimes offend people or make them disdain me. So I keep my mouth shut to avoid unnecessary arguments. When it comes to looks, I’m not very impressive, probably. I’m kind of a nerd. Thin, brown smooth hair and brow eyes. Also, I do program computers. Very unlikely career for an INFP, don’t you think? But hell yeah, I love programming.

    I want not to sound pretentious about the subject love but I have some words to elucidate about it, if I may. I envy you. I guess I’m not capable to love someone with such intensity anymore. My platonic heart is full of scars. I decided to cold it and rebel against love ideals. Perhaps this is childish attitude, but the cogs of fate first conspired upon me. I’m complete clueless about those things. I know that nature play a role in the mating dance and the possibilities are huge when we search for true love. But I just don’t understand it. I don’t know what true love or just love exactly is (don’t get me wrong, I know the ‘mechanics’ of love). But is that kind of thing that someone cannot afford to learn alone. And that’s the problem! I like to be lonely. Is that strange? A life’s phase? If so, so be it. Because (a) strange(r) is what I am. Everyone is at some degree.

    Thank you very much for an insightful and revealing conversation. I learned one thing or two. Maybe three.

    • You’re welcome 🙂 And I wholeheartedly understand what you mean. You’ve put it into words quite beautifully yourself. Sometimes, I feel like true love is just an illusion, a romantic notion fabricated by society that fills the yawning chasms of loneliness within us all, turning it into a billion, trillion, dollar industry. Emotions are murky like that. I don’t know either, about love, about life, and I think that we’ll never know. We just have to be brave enough to say that I’m clueless about love, I’m clueless, and go on with our lives despite our irreparable ignorance. Thanks for your lovely comment 🙂

  3. I just spent the last thirty minutes or so reading through your posts and I have to say I thoroughly enjoy your writing. I, too, am and INFP and I relate to pretty much everything you say. I am thankful to have found you on here. I feel less alone. Not really. But really. If only I could find more people to relate to in person. Hope that makes sense.

    I am thinking of starting a blog or something myself to help get some of my feelings out of my chest once in a while.

    Anyways, I bookmarked your page and I look forward to reading future posts.



  4. Is it possible just to relate??? I feel like you express all those things I cannot say out loud, like I am not that weird as I used to be. I am so happy and simultaneously so sad when I discover that other people thinking like that exist in this planet, because I do not want anyone else to suffer this existential pain, to think like that in the middle of the night. My bittersweet tears are simply not enough to express my empathy and the love emitating from my heart to people like you, my understanding.
    Take care you wonderful human ( slightly not human-in a good way) being.
    You do know how to share hope with other people , even though you might no even realise it.

    • Thank you! Your comment gladdened by heart. You seem like a lovely, sweet, wonderful human being yourself. I don’t know you, but I feel like there are some connections that words can’t express. I’m sure our souls understand each other very well, and I hope you take care too, fellow dreamer.

    • Hello! I wish you were my best friend. I don’t even know you, but I can tell from your comment – we’d be great friends. Sorry. I’ve just been feeling very isolated lately, and I’ve been praying for an INFP person to enter my life. Hope this wasn’t too forward and random.

  5. I reckon most definitely so. Not all relationships are perfect, from the outside they may look so, but that is a mere illusion. Unfortunately life is not one big happy fairytale. I can relate to what you mention above, I seem to end up with the opposite to what I desire. It’s almost like i’m forced to compromise, but i don’t want to, why should i? I’m worth way more than that.

  6. Am I the only guy on here?

    I identify with the way you perceive the world. Completely. I want to give all of my love, energy and creativity to the world. Every single person I meet, I want to make happier. I think this is a beautiful way of living and thinking about life, but impractical.

    I’ve recently realized that as much as you can love others, you need to love yourself. Look up to yourself, admire yourself. Otherwise you end up falling for unavailable, unkind people, that you somehow think you can “rescue”. I recently broke up with a girl like this. She’s very emotionally immature, has no idea what life is about, is very very insecure, and just a bitter and unkind person. I tried to get her to “come around” for the longest time, but it just doesnt work that way. At some point, you need to realize, that by being with someone that isnt up to your standards, you’re devaluing yourself. You’re scared of your own light, your own beauty and greatness. Also, not everyone deserves your undying love. At least not at first sight. We idealists have to be a bit more calm, and wait to fall in love with the person, not the idea.

    You wish you’d meet someone through the blog? Well, I’d meet you if you’d like, grab a cup of coffee maybe sometime. I’m curious. Would I actually click with an idealistic person like me, or would two idealists cancel each other out, and bore each other?…

    I’d like to finish with a thought I had today, came up in relation to breaking up with this girl. “Nobility and kindness have to be accompanied by strength of character, so as to never be fooled or slowed down by those who walk paths of mischief and unkindness”… Its just very very hard for me to believe that there are actual evil people in the world. But there are. Some say evil people are just confused and lost, and I believe it. But their confusion and loneliness cannot be solved by you, only themselves, so you need to protect your precious heart and mind from these soul-sucking people.

    Nice blog. Keep it up.

    • Thank you! You sound absolutely lovely. No, you’re not the only male who has visited my blog, though there is a skew towards females, at least regarding those who comment. That’s an interesting thought. I have this secret fear that if I ever did meet an INFP in person, or an idealist, it would be doubly awkward for the both of us. A coffee? Well. I don’t think that’s logistically possible at the moment, unless you happen to live in Australia.

      • Lol, no I dont. And even if I did, Australia is humongous. My best friend lives in Melbourne though, and I will surely come one day, so maybe haha.

        Lovely blog, cheers.

  7. Please don’t stop writing. Your words are important. This blog is important. It makes people who feel like you and I do (and your thoughts resonate deeply with mine) who feel lost in this great big world have hope. That even if you’re deep in the heart of Africa, you are not alone. Sometimes that’s enough to get through.

    oh and may you find the love you’re looking for.

  8. You must share a fragment of my DNA, I think; for we are made of the same stuff. I’ve read some of your posts about being an INFP and related so deeply that it is actually uncanny. From your love of cats and your avoidance of romantic interests, to your resistance toward societal structure and your appreciation for the over-arching meaning of life. You’re a splendid writer as well. I think the only thing that keeps me from spiraling into the same existential dread, as you do in some of your posts, is the magnificent love of Jesus Who died for me and the hope of life I have through Him. There are days I don’t feel very harmonious about things, but when I pause and reflect on the vast expanse of creation and the minute detail of the atoms by which all things were made and the purpose each moment holds–suddenly I find myself overwhelmed by happiness. However, I was utterly distraught by your description of your home life, because it resonates with my own–my father is at times a harsh-spirited man, destroyed by the bitter world and hollowed of his self-worth and my mother is dragged down into cynicism and depression with him, crushed under the weight of having to support the family. She feels he has drained her of life. Because of their example, I fear ever being close to someone (not that anyone would want to marry me, I would be a terrible wife). Because I can love people so deeply, I can become extremely attached, even clingy and jealous. But I’m scared a display of too much affection will scare them away, so I keep people at a distance, hoping they will bridge the gap. And I am so scared of rejection as a person… because what I know of who I am is very personal to me. So I have recently been coming to grips that I will never feel comfortable letting someone else be truly close with me. Romance is great in stories, but in real life it will never be mine and all it does for me is steal away my friends from me. I feel I am far too awkward to ever be so emotionally vulnerable with a boy, even though awkwardness and emotions in a guy is one of the most endearing traits a guy can have (right up there with playing with cats and kids and reading books). I am at college right now, I have a crush whom I try not to idealize, with whom I nevertheless avoid over-interaction (I mean, I don’t want him to think I like him because he’s too good for me anyway so best not get attached or be embarrassed), but I’m really trying to just be a friend and admire him in a brotherly way..

    • Every single word of yours resonated with me like a heartbeat. There is little more to say; I only wish someone like you could enter my life, and we could lie side by side on a hilltop and watch the stars and revel and mourn the marvel and tragedy of being alive and human.

  9. Hi, fellow INFP.
    You are amazing and I relate to you.
    If I may, you might find it beneficial (if you have a facebook account) to join the private INFP group on fb. You can converse with and read about the thoughts of thousands of like minded individuals. Many post about their ideas, their artwork, and their writing, while others post simply asking for advice, love, and understanding. It’s nice to know you aren’t alone, to be able to interact with souls like you from around the world.
    Also, since it’s a private group, it won’t be available for those in your public news feed to see.

    Just a thought. Cheers!

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