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Alone
__________
Scott Allen
About Being Alone
Copyright © 2009 by Scott Allen
scottallen.biz
All rights reserved. No part of this book may
be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
by any means without written permission
from the author.
2
I'm in a place.
Silence is better.
3
I feel like a dead animal.
4
We are neither dead nor living, but
somewhere in between.
Pens everywhere.
5
By the time progress comes around,
there isn't any.
6
Don't think about ___________.
7
It is the same for everybody, except you,
me.
8
All things disappear into a crowd.
A gift to myself.
9
It is because the artist is free that we are
free.
Forgotten, detached.
10
Don't ever see him, just look at his
words.
My house is an apartment.
My apartment is a room.
My room is a dwelling.
My dwelling is a home.
11
At the very bottom of her voice, tease,
scratch, the.
Speech is a habit.
Silence is a wait.
12
The night is in me.
The day is outside.
I'm like night and day.
13
I'm supposed to be the same no matter
what happens.
Listen.
All I have to do is listen.
14
Is there a language other than language?
The question of music.
Acknowledgements,
reminders,
destinies.
15
Notes to myself.
I'm at a stoplight.
I get impatient.
The light turns green.
I forget.
Go.
16
I just watch people's lives.
Where was I?
17
He had eyes.
To be alone again.
18
Death is possible.
19
You're not what you were before.
Death is creepy.
20
I express myself, only.
I express everything there is, only.
21
Dream: half-knowing.
22
Black here, blue there.
I may be on to something.
I may not.
23
We speak in a hundred ways.
24
Don't look outside.
Keep going!
We live on bs.
25
“See you tomorrow, if I don't die in a
plane crash.”
He carried a penny.
26
Your life: it is part of the same “dream”
on any given day.
Hold on.
I'm in love.
Death in a minute.
27
Bittersweet.
I see faces.
It's impossible.
The only thing you need to know.
28
She's going to give me hard time for
having no money and being who I am.
29
I'm wasting time in nowheresville.
Last look.
30
It feels good to read.
It's been years.
31
Bitter, cold and angry.
I need somebody.
Who?
I don't know.
Somebody I don't know.
Yes.
A stranger.
I write.
So do you.
We write “together.”
32
To write; a word that is written, created.
Trail of desire.
Go nowhere.
Do nothing.
Be no one.
33
It was, after all, just some cheap
entertainment.
Death.
The backdrop of our lives.
Ignore everything.
He ate alone.
34
He whispered, “impossible.”
Explosion.
35
The beauty of silence is when you don't
have to say anything.
Ache.
I'm free.
Not really, I am.
36
Every day was a day to do what had not
yet been done.
37
It's all writing.
38
You want to be different than you are.
But then you want to be the same as
well.
Without being you, you continue being
both.
39
If ever, if when?
A quiet thanks.
40
I don't live, so I can write, see.
41
I know who I am.
I'm down here.
42
Do you know the meaning of late?
It is way past late.
No.
43
This is it for me.
I have no place.
44
In creativity, nothing is allowed.
45
Change toward what?
(They were sure of something.)
46
You made it, only you didn't.
I have no thoughts.
I'm as empty as a canvas with paint
splattered on it.
47
I walked across the floor.
I didn't, though someone in me did.
A man.
When I walked back, he was gone.
Progress, a moment.
48
He was creating from here, this room,
this street, land.
I killed a leaf.
A pen.
I got a tiger.
49
Maybe I'm doing what I want.
50
This is my first time being here alone.
I slept.
I look stupid.
51
City lights don't mean anything.
I just changed.
52
She's got the sweetest face.
A really special look.
53
I will lose: I mean I have lost.
That is, I am losing.
I stretch.
54
Here: where?
55
To listen is to hear something new.
56
You don't even know who you are.
I can't.
But I will anyway.
57
Why do they remain alone?
... I almost had it.
58
When I look at you, I see your ways.
59
“You must say something.”
“I will try to be quiet.”
60
It's just the way we are.
Criticism.
It makes you what you are.
61
The magic pen.
Get lost.
62
I just wrote it.
What do you mean it doesn't exist?
I just wrote it.
It's there.
To life.
63
Life.
Just another word.
64
“It's okay.”
“Life?”
“No, I mean the book.”
65
I've lost interest.
Let me be.
Little bits.
66
Death is so important.
I could do that.
67
Too impossible to do anything.
Juice.
68
He made a good decision.
I am a writing fool.
I am a coincidence.
69
He said to his cat, “I know you are
there.”
70
We're close to the end.
Aids.
71
Don't forget.
It's sad.
72
I don't even know what I did.
73
I've done this before.
Death.
I'm craving the past.
74
My cat stares at me so honestly.
75
What we learn is by chance.
76
I grow on and on.
If that doesn't work, I'll never change.
Life is confusion.
There is no doubt about that.
Yet, at times, I feel bold.
77
The study of oneself is a dead end, if not
a trap.
78
Confusion is a masterpiece.
79
There was a place called home.
80
I've been on roads with no signs.
81
The outside is always there.
You just don't notice it.
Real? True?
It's all a hoax.
82
It is going to happen, the contrast
between us.
We will fall short of each other.
We will not wait.
We will meet again.
83
Writing takes place in a void.
It has no surface.
84
I don't know what is best for me.
I do as I please.
Thus, I lose my way.
I give what I can.
85
Notes to myself.
86
I'll die lost.
I live here?
He wore black.
87
My nerves are flying.
I'm on my own.
It's so simple.
It's impossible.
I did it.
Death is light.
88
I might not make it another fifteen
minutes.
89
Be quiet.
Be silent.
Be ...
I have no age.
I learn.
I struggle.
I go on.
90
I don't know where the pen is.
It's Sunday.
91
Death is a reminder.
It's Monday.
Sunday is past.
The raucous starts again.
I go to a quiet place when I can.
92
I don't want to get mad.
I can't look.
Uh-huh.
93
There is nothing authentic about it.
It is futile to do anything.
When it all turns to “bubble gum”
anyway.
What do you do then?
Do it anyway.
I'm on my own.
I see someone.
They're walking.
I recognize them as anonymous.
94
It was like a rollercoaster, not just up
and down, but with twists and turns, and
sometimes, straight away.
95
There is always a truth to be had,
floating around in one's life somewhere.
96
There is a woman leaning over, touching
the ground.
She is walking now, taking steps.
Two young girls pass by.
This is the beach.
97