the lost man chronicles
book two: the art of love


one of those days

Today was one of those days, when my existence was only verified through the words of others. Yearning for amorous attention, I opened my inbox at least once every half-hour (at least). Practically, each time I found it empty, and the void only echoed deeper, down into my private abyss.

At the end of this gloomy day, the proverbial and epistolary affection I was looking for was profoundly missing. Its absence resonated through my shell, and ultimately I had no alternative but to disconnect my self-consciousness by extracting my pining soul from the vacuum of the vacuous ether, where in digitized silence no one had heard my heart scream.

Now keenly aware of my loneliness and subsequent desperate measures, I was hopelessly out of control. Nothing other than the promising electronic voice of another, seemingly could console meónot pressing work, not the midday meal, not even the spurious meandering upon the web could steal away this hapless feeling. I was simply reeling from unrequited desire and nothing could extinguish this smoldering fire burning into emptiness.

Alas, prior to the resigning moment of powering down, I was tempted to click one more time, a frivolous motion that only once again confirmed that I was not getting enough fresh air, and that I was feeling as if I was just another lost soul wandering, brooding through the foreboding metropolis.

Viktor Frankl writes in his life-affirming treatise, Man's Search for Meaning: "When a man finds that it is his destiny to suffer, he will have to accept his suffering as his task. He will have to acknowledge that even in suffering he is unique and alone in the universe. No one can relieve him of his suffering or suffer in his place. His unique opportunity lies in the way in which he bears his burden."

I decided to unload the burden of trivial melancholy by going to get a haircut.

Miraculously, by the time that last snip was made, all my loneliness lie on the floor with all the black clippings. I looked at the new me in the mirror and smiled, looking forward I thought, "Tomorrow is another day, and another way to make my life promising."

*

" (A smile) is the rest to the weary, daylight to the discouraged, sunshine to the sad, and Nature's best antidote for trouble." ~ Dale Carnegie




the art of living the art of living the beginning the art of love the art of love


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