Tonight, a bad night, I phoned, messaged and emailed the few relatives and friends I have left and got no response from any of them. But never say die.
‘wishing Lord that I was stoned’
‘Wishing Lord that I was stoned / ’cause there’s something in a Sunday makes a body feel alone’
In the grip of loneliness, be Beowulf
Loneliness is a bully. It’s like a thug in the street. It coldcocks you. It kicks you when you’re down. If you don’t fight back, it can kill you.