The essence of loneliness E-Book

Ida Stark

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Wissenschaft und neue Technologien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 188

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Nothing is happening, yet so much has changed. How will we be able to notice all small changes happening over time? Or is that just for the scientists to figure out afterward? What is happening as we live our lives? What is to become of us in the end? What are you perceiving? Who is entitled to their perspective? What is it like to be human? What is it like to be alive? In "The Essence Of Loneliness," you delve into the perspectives and minds of two traumatized individuals as they navigate their understanding and coping mechanisms amidst the pain they have endured. Through their journey, they contemplate how the sometimes uncomfortable truth about human behavior influences the future to come. Their perspectives are rooted in the current scientific understanding of the world and human behavior, creating a philosophical and dystopian narrative reminiscent of works like "1984" by George Orwell. For this second edition, the editing process has utilized the capabilities of ChatGPT3. It has provided assistance in refining the content and language of the book.

Leseprobe

©Ida Stark

2023

@idyllienodyssey

[email protected]

Second edition

Ida Stark

Alingsås

To Ingrid and Rune, the sources of goodness in my life.

I am floating inside a pink sphere, levitating in the universe; it is cold, and no sign of life as far as my senses can perceive. Only I exist here and I am happy. Only me, I am free. I will never be tortured again. I have left Earth journeying toward new goals; for what humanity has defined as love, ethics, and morals. Even in the absence of air, I feel my lungs fill with life. Even if there is no other soul, I feel love. I know now what awaits me after all these years of pain; there could be nothing left but pure love.

Table of Contents

OUR MEETING

OUR HISTORY

OUR CONSCIOUSNESS

OUR FUTURE

THE CONSCIOUSNESS

THE FUTURE

THE END

Epilogue

1. OUR MEETING

I never asked for a man to marry,

nor to be the woman you adore.

All I want is to be seen

as a person,

with all my beauty

and all of my flaws.

He had already planned it. He always planned his actions, even so, he was not someone who would not grab an opportunity when it presented itself. Since he was a man of many ideas, opportunities often presented themselves. What made him the most successful was that he would listen and learn, sometimes he did not even know how he did it. He did not have the time to understand all of his thoughts fully, he had a feeling based on all the information he processed, which was accurate most of the time. He thought to himself with a smirk; this ability was what had made me rich. When he wanted to do something, he always found a way to make it happen. Ever since he was young, he knew that knowledge brings power, although it could also cause pain when presented to others—if they did not like it.

He observed her from across the room, she had not yet noticed him. In his peripheral vision, he saw coworkers moving about, heard their laughter and the clinking of porcelain mugs. He wondered, unable to contain his smile, why are we so obsessed when in love? He could not get enough of her. The familiarity of this intense emotion reminded him of past experiences with other girls during his youth and with his former wife as well. He knew that the obsessive feeling towards her would eventually fade away, but he decided to let himself enjoy it while it lasted. This time, he could not shake the feeling that it could be different, she was different—or so his dopamine-filled brain thought. There was a connection with her that he was not sure he had felt before. He never really longed to have sex with just any girl, even though he had tried that too. For him to feel truly attracted, there had to be something special that caught his attention—a connection.

Their coworkers often found her peculiar as they spent time together. She laughed at his jokes that only a few of his friends could appreciate, making him feel close to her. When she added her own wit to his humor, he could not help but laugh, thinking to himself; she gets me. He felt as though, maybe, he could love her—not that he truly believed it. He had a hard time expressing his love for others, he thought he may have even forgotten how love felt, if he had ever known. Whatever love meant, it was not the same for him as it seemed for those he believed he loved. He considered that the love he had for his kids might have to be enough for him. He would always try to give them all that he believed was good for them, to show his appreciation for having them in his life. His experiences had taught him that relationships were never that simple.

The lunchroom emptied, leaving only her. He approached her and asked if she would like to join him for dinner that evening. Her smile was so radiant it seemed like she could hear his mind shouting yes! with her response. He already knew she would say yes, his intuition told him so. She excused herself, explaining that she was in a hurry. Just before leaving, she turned her head to take a last glimpse of him, her eyes glistened with curiosity and excitement. He could not bear the feeling of wanting to feel her skin, thinking of her naked body in his bed, then he would try something new he had thought about doing. He was a man who made his dreams come true, and so would his plans with her, he knew it.

Later that day, he dressed himself up for their dinner. Looking like a gentleman, he snorted sarcastically to himself. Dressing up made him feel like he was acting. The clothes had a particular uplifting scent that filled him with excitement. His brain connected the smell to the thrilling events that usually followed. When he was younger, he did not care much about his clothing. The more he spent time with people who made the final decisions he understood the purpose of dressing fancy. He smiled when he thought about how he mockingly called them the decision-makers. Dressing up made him seem more empowered and comfortable when making difficult decisions. He learned the social codes of what to wear, whom to date, and whom to love. He always hated that game. He hated to judge others by their first look, even though he knew it often said much about people. Some people concealed their wisdom, and they intrigued him. Everyone around him took him and his work so very seriously, people could not comprehend how he did it. The truth was he did not take anything too seriously. He did it because he wanted to, and he apparently looked powerful while doing so. However, tonight was all about having fun and sweeping her away. As he made the last adjustments to his hair, he looked at himself in the mirror, having no doubt in his mind.

She arrived just in time for dinner, or maybe a few minutes late. Even though it was important for her to be on time, she found it difficult these days. As she entered the room, she saw him sitting at the table. Fumbling with her bag, she accidentally knocked over the chair she tried to hang it on. Just an hour before, she had been calm and confident, but the stress of leaving her protesting kids with their dad had made her feel jittery and flustered. It used to be so much easier to be punctual before she had kids, the image of the smoothly sophisticated lady she used to imagine herself to be seemed like a distant memory. He got up to help her get settled in her chair, and she could sense from his humble look and smile how much he enjoyed seeing her. He was always happy to help.

She excused herself, "I am glad I have my kids to blame; otherwise, I would not have any good excuses."

"You often kid about things that you actually reckon to be the truth," he said, as she felt his eyes absorbing her when studying her reaction intently. His comment made her thoughts wander for a moment. It was true, some people had hinted at that before, but never in the way he did. When he said it, she could feel the depth of his observation, as if he saw her in a way that no one else had for a long time. It was an unsettling feeling. Most of the time, she felt as if she was playing a role, trying to be like everyone else. But a part of her longed to be herself, to be free to speak her mind. She did not know how others kept their mouths shut, leaving her to wonder; can they not see what I see? She envied those who always spoke their minds, she often did too, but too often it led to misunderstandings. She hated being misunderstood. He was one of those people who often spoke his mind. Their conversation turned to this topic as the waiter discreetly presented the menu. Caught up in their conversation, they continued to talk.

"It is exhausting that they can accuse me of being rude and impolite while thinking that I should not tell them the truth about their behavior when they make mistakes or fail to see the whole picture," he said, tossing his head and rolling his eyes.

"Well, yeah, if you want them as friends," she replied with a touch of sarcasm.

"I never want them as friends," his eyes were daring.

"And here we are," she said, looking at him. They both smiled as if they understood each other. It was not that they did not like other people, it was just that they found it exhausting that society never seemed to get it. Knowingly this was how others sometimes felt about them; they did not get it. Even if he knew that some people would consider him odd or emotionally distant, he did care deeply for those who were treated unfairly by society's rules. He was passionate about helping those who wished no harm and were trying to contribute, yet still ended up mistreated and misunderstood by ordinary people. For him, it was necessary to point out mistreatment when he saw it. Others would sometimes consider him arrogant for doing so. He would get provoked by their way of repeating their behavior according to what everyone else thought. At times, he tried to hold his thoughts to himself and adjust to their way of thinking, but it was hard dealing with the feeling of being false.

"I guess that I am a bit too rational for their taste. I just hate when I feel forced to pretend not to see better solutions", he said, his voice animated, "it always takes such time to cooperate with others when I have to explain my ideas. I guess I am more cut out for the leading role, to explain in a way they sort of understand, and then lead. Or maybe just to be on my own." She noticed that this was something that had been bothering him. It connected her to a feeling of isolation, a feeling she would experience in the middle of a group of people, especially when holding back.

She gave him a playful reply, "Oh, admit it! You just love making people uncomfortable! So do I. The way I see it is that I wish to awaken the feeling of them questioning themselves, not to make them feel stupid, more a way to make them snap out of their narrow way of thinking." She never said it like that to anyone before, she did not quite know why she now did. Looking at him, she felt by his amusement that he understood her intention. What others considered provocative behavior was something that felt right, likely because of her way of being provoked by their way of thinking inside the box.

Their conversation progressed in a rapid phase, in contrast to their slow pace of eating the food they had ordered. They seemed unaffected that the steam kept rising from the dish, which would usually decrease its heat and flavor. He made an honest joke about his past relationships, he now did not know who to find someone to keep by his side for the rest of his life.

"You can never keep anyone by your side," she pointed out. "You want them to stay with you because you love them, right? Then you can never persuade them to stay or ask them never to leave you. Love cannot be forced, you cannot force someone's genuine interest. You can only give them as much love as you can, and be grateful for the time you have together." As she finished speaking, her eyes wandered to the window next to them, lost in thought.

"Should I just give up on finding someone to stay with me?" He asked, not entirely serious. But as he said it aloud, he realized he actually meant it.

"No, but never let the fear of them leaving you to control how you treat them, be aware of it," she replied, still looking away.

"So young, and you still had time to think about this?" He tried to lighten the mood, but she remained silent, "it stresses me out when people leave me. I guess sometimes it causes me to push them away," he admitted.

"It was hard for me to understand love because it is not something you can learn and understand by yourself. Love is supposed to be something you feel with others, the essence of our goodness seen through each other's eyes. I have lost someone I shared my life with for a long time. It is impossible to love someone without spending time with them, without shared memories, it becomes more of an adoration. Love is the memories creating composure in our bodies in the presence of someone. Even though I did what I could to save my friend, I wish I had been more grateful during the time we shared. We cannot share any more moments now, and the memories are starting to fade away. I cannot relive our love for each other, and a part of my life, our life together, is fading away," she explained and he felt her sorrow and grief through the look in her eyes.

Her words had him thinking about his own loss. Over the years, he had endured many painful events, but nothing hurt him as deeply as his tremendous deprivation. The loss of his baby girl, who was supposed to be his first genuine love. Someone who would have his infinite adoration. His firstborn child, who would be a part of how he knew he wanted a family to be like, a family, unlike anything the one in which he grew up—it was now a long time ago. Time has its way of healing the devastation after a loss but the thought of losing his baby still lingered in his mind. Thinking about losing his baby made him recall his childhood and his inquisitiveness about learning astrophysics while growing up. It helped him to suffer through all the horror he saw as a kid; by understanding where we come from and exploring the boundaries of his imagination. Through books and movies, he found hope for a better future, hope that things did not have to stay the way they were. In his mind, he would imagine a place of peace where he felt calm, a place of harmony. He often found himself thinking about space when visiting this place of emotional alleviation. It made him feel closer to those he had lost. Imagining their existence as a part of this universe made him feel as if they could still be close even though the particles that once created their bodies were now rearranged. Or as if he could exceed his existence and travel to a parallel universe in which he had never lost them. Both of them had been quiet for a while. The waiter removed their plates, trying to catch their attention but soon moved on when feeling the intense aura surrounding them.

Later, when presented with the checkbook, they seemed to snap back from their minds. Without a further plan, they paid and collected their belongings, leaving the restaurant together.

"You have an exceptional mind. Why not join me for a walk and take care of that beautiful brain of yours?" she teased, giving him a tempting look. “I would love to learn more about your ideas, they intrigue me."

For long, they had been seated, caught up in their conversation. She seemed to enjoy leaving the indoors and walking out into the pouring rain. He looked at her, not wanting to get himself all wet. The rain was falling heavily, turning the street into a stream. She looked at him with a smile that dared him to follow her, and he could not resist her temptation. Never ever.

As they began to walk, he asked, "How is it that I feel as though you know me?" Her feet were skipping, almost as if she was caught in a dance. She answered him with a smile. He was captivated by the way she looked at him, with eyes that seemed so familiar, even though they had only known each other for a short time.

The way she spoke about her feelings was similar to the way he felt. When he tried to talk about his feelings with others, they would often misinterpret them or tell him that he was wrong. Even though he had difficulty genuinely connecting with people in general, he realized that there would be others who felt like him. Over the years, he thought himself to have a connection with some of those he had met, but in the end, he often felt as though everyone betrayed him. As if the things they talked about did not mean the same to them as they did to him. He often felt as though they left him, he knew he had an issue dealing with people leaving. It was hard to realize that their good time together would not come again the same way it previously had. Whenever given a chance in any relationship, he always tried his best to make it work, yet he always ended up with the same feeling. At times he found himself struggling with feeling lonely—abandoned. He felt esteem towards how she never judged him, but her eyes also said so much more. They seemed to say that she shared his pain and knew what he had been through. He could not help but wonder; could that possibly be true? Was it all in his head? Was it just the thrill of their whole experience that got to him?

Their clothes were now much heavier than before, as some raindrops continued to fall on them. Their clothes were dripping as they walked through the city, prompting him to reminisce about the times he had played with his kids in the rain. Parenting had always been a challenge for him, as he had to maintain his patience while accepting his children's inability to control their tantrums, and acknowledging his own limitations to prevent his own outbursts. With time, he had learned to identify his emotions and communicate them to his children so that they could feel safe and do the same. He cherished spending time with his kids and friends, who had accepted him for who he was, even if they did not always understand him.

"We will always make mistakes as parents, will we not? Our children will grow up and hopefully learn from our mistakes. If we are lucky, they will understand in time. Otherwise, they may blame us and hold us responsible. But nobody is without mistakes, right? If we did not fail, we would not know how to succeed. That is just how humans work," he said and as they continued walking, he observed that her eye remained fixed on the ground. She smiled and nodded, lost in thought.

Spending time with her kids was one of the things she loved the most, as they spent their time learning, she also learned so much from them. They had her explain the world in a simplicity they could understand, which sometimes required her to reformulate her own understanding. To observe herself and understand her behavior in order to explain it to them, to connect what is hard to understand with what is easy to understand—how it is all connected. She had always felt that there lay a certain beauty about expressing what seemed to be hard to understand in simple terms. His previous words had an impact on her. As a parent, she had to accept constant failure because there is not enough time or energy to make the best decision in every situation. Sometimes you just have to wing it. Sometimes you end up crying when you are supposed to be the one comforting. When she felt as if she could not pull through, crying and feeling helpless, she could not be prouder than when her kids came and hugged her. All that she hoped for was that they felt the same way when she comforted them.

She replied with a humble voice, "Yeah, I agree. The hard part is not being a parent per se; it is being a good parent while also trying to be the person you want to be when you are around them. It is juggling all the different commitments, responsibilities, and expectations in life." They continued to share their experiences on the matter. Darkness had now surrounded them as their walk seemed to have taken them away from the city lights. Above them, the night sky had cleared. Faraway worlds in the form of starlight now unfolded their existence. Down on earth, they kept walking, caught in each other's thoughts.

As their conversation progressed, it became evident that they shared a fundamental understanding of how to care for others, including as parents. Both had experienced divorce; for him, it was a brief but intense process once he expressed his feelings.