some days are very lonely.
lonely, yet so occupied. our bodies resemble abysses in the way they carry all of life’s weight 24/7. we are expected to bear an accumulation of thought, feeling, and responsibility. even now, i’m sure you have a lot on your mind, on your plate: exams to study for, a family to take care of, trauma to heal from. and if you’re reading this, it’s likely you’re seeking some peace in separation from your usual load.
i understand you. it’s a lot at times.
of course, there’s only so much i know, only so much i’ve thought and felt and experienced. and really, i’m just a stranger. someone you probably never crossed paths with and probably never will. it may appear fruitless, trusting my capacity to comfort. i’m out-of-reach and seemingly unfamiliar. so how could it be possible?
as insincere as it may sound, i feel closely connected to you. our mere humanity links us, even in anonymity. it bridges whatever differences you and i may have. ironically enough, we are connected by the string of loneliness running through each and every one of us1. this connection of ours is a unique consolation, a precious one.
on days in which everything seems to weigh you further and further down, in which you want nothing more than to just throw it all away—all the stress, hardship, insecurity, whatever it may be—and be free from the world, from yourself,
don’t hesitate to stop by.
i’ll pop up in your inbox once a month to check on you, provide my insights, stories, feelings—really, whatever i have to offer—and give you a space to let it all go, and just breathe. in fact, we’ll check on each other and give each other a space.
to throw ourselves away, even for just a moment.
-mays