English: A420 leaving Giddeahall heading east ...
English: A420 leaving Giddeahall heading east Very little between here and Chippenham. A blackthorn, sloe or prunus spinosa is in flower to the left. The fruit has a bitter taste but makes very good wine which needs time to mature. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I suppose I should have figured this is what it’d be like. There’s even a Twilight Zone about it with the guy who’s the last guy on earth and he wants to read but then his glasses break. Luckily, I don’t have glasses, but the payoff is emotionally the same. I don’t even really know why, since I typically don’t — or, rather, didn’t — like people nor have any close friends or even acquaintances. I guess it was just the idea for the potential to have a close friend or acquaintance or anything like that. Even though I just found myself wanting to keep to myself anyway. I think that’s one of the commonalities of existence though — the potential is always the most important. It always seems that everything is, in its own way anti-climactic. Some less so than others, but it’s almost never as good as you’re expecting it to be. Even if it’s something you’re dreading and it turns out to be great, there’s still the slight let down of being wrong, which even when it’s a good thing to be wrong about always seems to leave a slightly bitter taste.

Of course, in this case, I don’t really even know if I was expecting it to happen or even really wanting it. Obtaining an aloneness of this magnitude wasn’t even something I thought of either way — it didn’t seem like a possibility so it didn’t even seem worth it to form much of an opinion on either way. I think if you’d asked me before — as well as now — I’d say that I’d prefer that it not happen, but it was never exactly top-of-mind. Now it is, of course, since that’s one of the only things to think about, but hey. I guess there’s other stuff to think about, really, but the lack of anything else alive has a way of overriding anything else. Everything tends to remind you of it, since, well, pretty much everything was created and/or used by someone or something alive. It’s a little hard to escape.

I suppose it could be worse, though. Not exactly sure how, but hey, it could be worse. I guess it’s pretty good to still be alive, though. Still stuff to learn about. No one to share it with, but, let’s face it, I wasn’t doing a whole heck of a lot of that anyway.

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