loneliness is a symptom of the human condition
of realizing that you have thoughts that you cannot share
of experiences that you cannot speak
of truths that to everyone else are untrue
the unreality of how your experience
will not register on the vast untold millions
the solipsism of sitting on a subway
not saying not moving
the entire ride
then getting off at your stop
walking home
brushing your teeth
and going to bed

michael collins was all alone
when buzz and neil landed on the moon
he orbited around the dark side
in the quiet
away from all communication he sat in silence

he said he wasn't lonely, even though the tabloids portrayed him as such
"not since adam has any human known such solitude"
instead he felt:
"awareness, anticipation, satisfaction, confidence, almost exultation"

that's the way to be
to not wait for company
but instead prepare yourself for yourself
to take note of the rapture of the cosmos
from high above in your tin can
stare down at the twin planets
the tallest man in the universe
and gawk with wild abandon and wonder

solitude is a state
loneliness is a pathology
remember solitude is the gift
but neither is desired
you always have yourself if you take it
the human mind does amazing backflips like a flea circus
caged in the way that it is
pounding against the doors of the skull
leaking out through the eyes

i like writing about astronauts. they give me hope for the brazen gravitas of forgetten times
the brash gumption and fortitude of pushing the limits of the human condition
constantly
shackleton sliding down a mountainside shrouded in mist
when all else is lost
cousteau at the bottom of the ocean in the quiet deep
hillary climbing to the top
looking over the edge of the world
because it was there
that kind of high is intoxicating
that kind of madness is all-encompassing
you can't drink alone

it is an exultation to exist
to fly speeding on this rock
to dance with wild abandon in the dark
to see sights never seen
sing songs unsung
taste the salt of the earth and feel the sting of the wind
the pain of being alive is the best seasoning

so raise a glass with me
let us sing auld lang syne
and chant the refrain they sang in the trenches in the first great war:
"we're here because we're here because we're here because we're here we're here because we're here because we're here because we're here"