There is no way to describe it.

Alone.

Because no one knows who you are, but it’s not like you really know who you are either. 

But does it matter?

You don’t want it to. Why should it matter, anyways? You have friends don’t you? 

Yes. But no one knows. No one, no one, nobody… Alone. 

Emptiness. 

Hollow.

Floating, and keeping to yourself because it’s the only way to be who you are.

Who are you?

You’ll never know.

This is a land of mist. You don’t know who it belongs to. It belongs to you. You know that. But you don’t know… Who it belongs to.

Cold. Alone. Cold. Alone.

Emptiness.

Hollow.

You could disappear now. You know you could. But could you? How do you lose yourself? Did you ever have yourself?

Lost.

Lost? What is that? Who decided that?

Someone. 

Someone who probably didn’t know as much as you don’t know.

Empty.

Hollow.

Cold. Hiding. 

Hiding from what?

Something. Not me. Maybe me. 

Who is me? Who are you? Why are we hiding?

Are we hiding from you?

I am.

Empty.

Hollow.

Alone.