aloneness is like a little planet.

almost every day, i go for a walk around aloneness. i find things on these walks. a mulberry. a purple rock. a strange shadow. i pick them up, and eat them.

my parents must have dropped me here. in those early days, i was light and full of energy, so whenever i saw them returning i could easily jump up to meet them, and float with them through space. but they were often busy elsewhere, and then i would find my way back and fall home.

i had quite good eyesight. sometimes i laid on my back, watching people glide far away, looking tiny compared to my eye floaters. i laid in the open. i had nothing to hide. sometimes if they came close, i joined them.

i walked. i became adept at finding things. in holes and in cracks. in one hole i even found two bunnies, and realized that they liked holes, and that if i kept them with me they would be happy. probably. i planted trees. i liked that they could grow forever. i liked that they rustled in the wind. most importantly, i liked that they hid me from watchers. i could see out past the leaves, but it was hard for anyone else to see in. all they would see is a beautiful green canopy.

i ate. i grew. for a while, i grew stronger, so that i was able to fly farther and farther from home. friends showed me other friends. some of them guided me to their own little planets, though i was often afraid to go. in some cases, i’m ashamed to say, i found their planets ugly. they had not tended to their gardens. they had not sculpted their land. why? i wanted to go home.

i grow heavier. it takes more effort to leave. all of the beautiful things i’ve planted and arranged and eaten weigh me down. when i see a friend’s planet approaching my neighborhood, i do still jump to meet them, float a while. but never too far.

as the world grows together, my planet drifts away. my eyes do not see as many stars as they once did. it’s natural. when we are young, our planets are all flung toward that center of the galaxy. some of us get closer to the center than others. some of us collide, others get trapped in complex orbits. fast or slow, most of us escape the interchange eventually. drifting asymptotically to a straight line.

i’m still quite close to everyone. many of my friends are still at hand, thankfully. one of them visits my planet often. and i have my bunnies.