Loneliness for me is the staggering coldness of an empty block of land in the evening, a rural kind of coldness knowing my friends have dispersed to Melbourne and surrounds. Loneliness is knowing this small rural town of mine is quiet and still, withdrawn and barely functioning with lack of funding and opportunity. I’m lonely when I look out the window, I’m lonely when I look in the mirror, I’m lonely in my innards and my stomach. I’m lonely in experiences. It’s this hungry thing, loneliness. It’s like wanting to constantly fill the emptiness, wanting some hot meal to consume and yet having nothing to swallow. It’s a kind of ache that corrodes you. I don’t want to be lonely anymore
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