Me. Myself. I.

From the very beginning of the world, with the touch of your first memory, only words arise in your mind. These words come up at the end, respectfully: me, myself, I. We come into this world alone and leave this journey alone as well. It is within the very nature of humankind. Have you ever wondered why when you step into the earth, everybody is filled with happiness, drowning in delight, and you are the only one to cry? And just like that, when it's time for you to leave, your face and mind turn cold while everybody else is set on fire. The unique Russian word "toska", created by a beloved Vladimir Nabokov, combines restlessness, melancholy, boredom and solitude, which overflows one's heart. In contrast, Buddhism views solitude as essential to mindfulness and peace. Japanese culture embraces the notion of Mono No Aware to signify the deep feeling of things and the powerful emotionality captured in them. The list goes on and on, but one can define solitude in different overtones. If loneliness was a colour, which would it be? For me, it's something greyish, with the cinder overtone. Or like melting snow in spring, not as bright as it used to be. How would it feel to you physically? Is it a drowning depth of the ocean, an overheated desert which burns you alive, or a cold room shattered with the frozen blowing wind? Is it sharp or soft? Liquid or airlike? Cold or hot? Well, the answer is - it depends. Just like within the cultural terms, the perception of loneliness isn't entirely straightforward but quietly created within our minds. It can be romanticised and praised as a form of life lesson, a valuable time investment to elaborate and grow from your past, or demonised by highlighting the sense of loneliness. One is alone, but being alone isn't the same as being lonely. In Eastern Europe, where I come from, we have a lot of prejudices about young men or women who aren't accompanied by someone else. The search for "the other half" becomes somewhat natural and leaves its sarcastic and solemnly toxic roots behind. However, such a vision has produced a wide range of anecdotes and idioms which are hard to translate, and one would rather kill themselves than try that. But anyway, you get the idea. And if you, my beloved reader, would like to ask me what I consider loneliness to represent, I would simply smile and give an ironic glimpse. Being alone, lonely, or on your own is the most trivial and the most natural part of life. I can boldly claim that at this point, I entirely rely on Jean-Paul Sartre and his "Hell is other people" quote, praising existentialism and their idea of isolation as a need within human nature. We were born to spend most of our time alone, so what are we afraid of? I cannot simply answer that question, but you can try to make an appointment with a psychologist to calm your curiosity, or read some Camus with his quiet rebellious concept of absurdism. And I, your relatively modest writer, would like to finish this flow of thoughts at this point, getting ready to reread this draft thoroughly, sitting in my student room all alone at 11pm, getting ready to read a book in silence and fall asleep again.