There are some works that invoke a though upon contact with the brain, and these return an image, an ideal or a concept. They shape in your brain before you have had time to think, like swirls of smoke, and form an idea of what you perceive that word to look like, how it feels and what it means.
One such word is lonely. As soon as the sound makes contact with our ears we think of being alone, possibly identifying it with age, and we often think of suffering. A person with no one to pick up the phone to, no friend to meet for a lunch date or no mum to pop in on of a weekend.
But lonely isn’t a word that always means alone. It’s possible to be in one of the most densely populated cities in the world, surrounded by people you know or nameless faces, and feel entirely lonely. That not one person who asks “how are you?” is genuinely waiting to hear what the response is. It’s a phrase that is so regularly followed with “fine thanks, you?” that it’s part of a robotic make up, a dance if meeting words, rather than a direct response to an interested question and it leaves you feeling a bit hollow.
We live in a society where we are constantly surrounded by people, acquaintances, but how many of those people do you actually count as friends, who mean something to you and will run to catch you if you start to feel like the carpet may be pulling from beneath your toes?
Just a thought.