Singular, in solitude, waiting to become a plural. When Plural, he cannot wait to become singular, again – I’m talking about the mood that swings you into solitude. Plurality causes him to question himself. Questioning himself causes self-hatred, because he cannot deal with the realities behind the dark-corners of his own soul. Still, he yearns to transition from `I` (singular) to `us` (plural). Most of all, he needs the possessive injunction in the `my` and `mine`: my girlfriend, my friend, my peers. But, the addiction of singularity pulls him back into it’s arms.
Singularity is comfortable, but it comes with more pain: he gets to read books, but cannot share information; more time to himself, but too much time to think.
Singularity or plurality?, is already too-confusing of a question. But, thoughts of the plural whilst in the singular, are the worse: loser, not good enough, nobody takes you seriously. They come when he is living in a plural, but with too-much-time in the-singular. These thoughts are endless like a black-hole: they keep-coming, and coming — making the darkness become endless and impossible to escape. These thoughts, erode him, increase his pain, confine his options and suppress his desires- making his position become – unbearable.What is he to do ?, he cannot be plural or singular, they’re both painful. He decides he needs to beat his thoughts, but how ?
Some books he reads — in The-Singular: