You are lonely, you tell me, and you never have a good friend. I mustn't tell anyone what you will tell me next, you say, and you tell me ------. You tell me and tell me the things that make you unhappy, and your unfruitful struggle to change. You want to be a better person, but you don't know where you are going, or how to get there, and nothing satisfies you, because you are empty.
You tell me these things, and I can see you in my mind's eye. You are sitting at your desk, in front of your computer. The lights are off, and your face is lit by the light from the screen. It paints your skin silver and green, even paler than it already is. The glow shadows your eyes. They seem hooded, or even haunted. You are there alone, hunched over, in that dark jacket.
What do I tell you to ease your sorrow?
You need a mother to hold you, and tell you everything's going to be all right--You need a girl to sit in your lap and say she loves you--
No: You need a truth to grip your life with hard hands, and shake out the stress. You need a blazing light to shine on what matters, and leave all the rest in shadow. You need to know who you are. But it is not I who can tell you. All I have to offer is a short hug, and long listening.