A friend once mentioned that staying silent in a crowded place feels a little like being in a bubble, where all the noise outside fades into a distant buzz you know exists but can't really hear. 

That is the feeling I sometimes get when I am in a room full of people. 

It is like everyone else is speaking the same language, but I am on a wavelength of different frequency and no matter how hard I try to decipher their words, they don't make much sense to me.

Why is it possible to feel so lonely when you are surrounded by fellow human beings whom you supposedly know? How come friends can feel like family in one instant, and then like complete strangers in the next moment?

It would be so easy to deduce that being alone is the easiest solution. When I am alone by choice, I feel comfortable and at ease because I don't have to be someone else. 

Yet there are also times when I finally get the solitude I'd been craving all day, but it feels empty rather than peaceful. Or instances where circumstances force me into solitude, and it feels stifling rather than liberating.

At the end of the day, I don't know what I need. I don't know what I want. I don't know what kind of person I am. I feel like a blank canvas reflecting whatever that is thrown to me. 

I am hollow. I am me. 

A friend once mentioned that staying silent in a crowded place feels a little like being in a bubble, where all the noise outside fades into a distant buzz you know exists but can't really hear. 

That is the feeling I sometimes get when I am in a room full of people. 

It is like everyone else is speaking the same language, but I am on a wavelength of different frequency and no matter how hard I try to decipher their words, they don't make much sense to me.

Why is it possible to feel so lonely when you are surrounded by fellow human beings whom you supposedly know? How come friends can feel like family in one instant, and then like complete strangers in the next moment?

It would be so easy to deduce that being alone is the easiest solution. When I am alone by choice, I feel comfortable and at ease because I don't have to be someone else. 

Yet there are also times when I finally get the solitude I'd been craving all day, but it feels empty rather than peaceful. Or instances where circumstances force me into solitude, and it feels stifling rather than liberating.

At the end of the day, I don't know what I need. I don't know what I want. I don't know what kind of person I am. I feel like a blank canvas reflecting whatever that is thrown to me. 

I am hollow. I am me.