Its not loneliness you see, its being with yourself. Its not about forgetting everything else around you, its about giving yourself a little more thought. For some, life is about trying to figure out what life is about, the joy of which is not the, perhaps inexistent, answer, but the journey itself.
Have you ever had a revisit of a very old but unique feeling, just the pure feeling. Sometimes even associated with something very simple, like a childhood fairy tale book. I remember this very unique feeling, this feeling of innocent fascination mixed with subtle dreamily vague recollection of blurry images or scenes maybe, this thick book of fairy tales and its old cover and stories from within it and mother, who probably read some of these stories to me. There is a television in a shelf stand. and underneath the television the shelf opens, and in it is the fairy tale book, and the room is dim... How young was I?
How we say things that we regret, how we do things that we come to regret, instead of cherishing those little moments of mysterious pleasure, simple yet profound in their own little ways.
In one way life is about appreciating the little gifts it brings us.

...However...

(cont'd from Pessimism)

there is the need for pessimism. for if there is no pessimism, there is no virtue in optimism, just as there is no reckoning of sweetness if there is no understanding of bitterness. if there is pessimism there is the battle to cross the frontiers of pessimism to enter into the realm of optimism. if there was one that came and kept coming throughout the continuity of time, saying what is it all about, then there would have been no motivation to move on forward...
it is indeed the lack of his coming that fuels the expedition from pessimism to optimism, for if he was ever present, then those states would have lost their relevence. so would have many other human emotions and feelings...
for those that harshness is a sad reality, pessimism is the worst enemy, and optimism is the only friend.
but there lies nothing new in these sayings, save another remembrance, another realization...
...strangely enough, in this repitition is his presence, in this remembrance is his proclamation of what it is all about...