I never knew I was alone

I am alone, so alone. Was it always like this? I cannot help but ask my self this question in this very sad and depressing book. Not. Entirely not. This book is not about the depressiveness of being alone, but about the possibilities. If you manage to get everyone off your back, how could you possibly spend your time? What kind of things keep you from spending enough time with your self and what could you do, once you have managed to secure the time that you need to be with your self? Alone. I breathe in and I breathe out. I feel amazing. Well, not at first. First I feel terrible, but then, surely, I will at some point eventually feel somewhat amazing. Feeling good to be on your own, by your self, alone, is not a guarantee, but something you have to work for. I have worked for it and I may say that I have been somewhat successful. Naja, at least in terms of writing a book about it I have. Strange, but true. The best ideas come to you when nobody is disturbing the deep and intense focus that you can only reach if left alone. I exhale. I inhale again. I look at what I have written and I realise that I am nearly done. Done with this description, for there is so much more to do. I have time. All the time that I need. More than enough. Now I must do with the time I have been given, what I find worthwhile doing with it. Does that make sense? Does anything ever make sense? Well, to me, being alone did make sense and I made the most out of it. Being resourceful in a time of madness, anxiety and fear may be the best friend that you could ever wish to want for. If I wrote anything else in here, you may not need to buy this book anymore. Peace out and left alone. Christopher, the friendly lunatic from around the furthest corner of the world. Also: If that doesn't make sense, nothing ever will.