Why is it that, when surrounded by others all the time, I feel so hopelessly alone?
There is something special about the child that has to be the parent to her parents. It makes her into something celestial. Actually, it makes her into that thing that is one step away from a deity. All this is wonderful, yes? What we all wouldn’t give to be one step away from a deity, to be described as celestial . . . But the problem with Almost Deities is that they are often invisible to the human eye. When they go into the drugstore to buy cold remedies, Band-Aids, rubbing alcohol, Epsom Salts, etc., we imagine they are doing what any human would do. But this is not true. You see, they buy all these things in advance, as a precautionary measure, because they know that at various points in their lives they will need to attend to the wounded. Which is fine. We should all help our sistren and brethren, but. Yes, but. But the reason they feel alone when surrounded by others is because they have looked into other people’s medicine cabinets and they have found them empty. So the Celestials know that when the day comes when they are the ones that are wounded, no one will have what is needed to stop the hurt. So they wrap themselves up tightly, and try to avoid the corners of furniture, sharp objects, and anything that gets hot enough to burn. To add to this worry is that the One-And-Only God-of-All-Creatures-Great-And-Small seems aloof. Or maybe this Savior is just busy. (Honestly, Monotheism seems like a bad idea for a planet whose population is ginormous.) The Celestials being Celestials understand God’s busy-ness. They have mastered The Art of Stoicism. They simply get on with the job of living. But this still leaves the question: Who will care for the Almost Deities, if The One And Only God is busy helping the billions and billions of humans? *
* Dear ‘Alone,’ I’m sorry to have answered your question, only to leave you with another . . .