If you lived by yourself and had short attention span, one of those moments, you would be bound to find yourself face to face with your own existence, as suddenly as a cat licking itself in the bathroom discovering its own reflection.
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I am still terribly scared of unmarked boxes, but I am getting better at opening them.
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Does this mean that we are not meant to survive the coinciding of those two states, that we mustn't be alone when we are lonely, and vice versa? That we must distract ourselves with more benign emotions when we are alone? That we must not allow ourselves to be deprived of company, when loneliness is biting?
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