"It's no good trying to get rid of your own aloneness. You've got to stick to it all your life.
Only at times, at times, the gap will be filled in. At times! But you have to wait for the times.
Accept your own aloneness and stick to it, all your life. And then accept the times when
the gap is filled in, when they come. But they've got to come. You can't force them."
D.H. Lawrence (Lady Chatterley's Lover)
Alienation (From Misfit to Hermit)
As resignation is the acceptance of despair,
so isolation is the avoidance of rejection.
These are coping mechanisms.
I need to stop reaching out to people.
Every time I do, it turns out to be a mistake.
I have a strong desire to be known, understood, appreciated,
that makes me want to open up to people, but I always regret it.
I must accept that no one really sees me. No one is interested.
I will always walk alone.
No one will read this. (Not while I'm alive.)
I've poured my heart out here, but there's not one person,
NOT ONE PERSON WHO CARES.
I've done my best to persuade people to read
the things I've written, but to no avail.
"He was a man who wasn't there.
No one noticed. Nobody cared.
He was a man. He was a man.
He was a man, who wasn't there."
Bram K. Singer (The Man Who Wasn't There)
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
Ron
Only at times, at times, the gap will be filled in. At times! But you have to wait for the times.
Accept your own aloneness and stick to it, all your life. And then accept the times when
the gap is filled in, when they come. But they've got to come. You can't force them."
D.H. Lawrence (Lady Chatterley's Lover)
Alienation (From Misfit to Hermit)
As resignation is the acceptance of despair,
so isolation is the avoidance of rejection.
These are coping mechanisms.
I need to stop reaching out to people.
Every time I do, it turns out to be a mistake.
I have a strong desire to be known, understood, appreciated,
that makes me want to open up to people, but I always regret it.
I must accept that no one really sees me. No one is interested.
I will always walk alone.
No one will read this. (Not while I'm alive.)
I've poured my heart out here, but there's not one person,
NOT ONE PERSON WHO CARES.
I've done my best to persuade people to read
the things I've written, but to no avail.
"He was a man who wasn't there.
No one noticed. Nobody cared.
He was a man. He was a man.
He was a man, who wasn't there."
Bram K. Singer (The Man Who Wasn't There)