dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. the unsettling realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

(via danseurs)

cloying:

There’s not much to say, other then the almost transparent guilt I feel. Many days, if not all. But that doesn’t matter, I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing. That’s just how still I am.

But if anything in these years. I long for one friend, one homie to the death. Wheres, there’s no feeling alone…