sapres

I am alone. Living only with my work, my drawings, and my writing. Being alone I should feel depressed, or even suicidal. However, I don't. My solitude keeps me company, my work keeps me entertained, I have all I need in seclusion I don't need attention, I don't need love, I don't need to be social, all I need I already have. But, there are a few who dared to go into my world and try to pull me into their world and many others like it. I hate those who try to "help" me and be my "friend". I don't want to be removed from my precious solitude. My eye's show discontent and hatred toward those who try to even look into my wo