Luco & Mingus

Here is a picture of me with my roommate Mingus. Because he is adorable, he has many friends, and everyone likes him better than they like me.

 

But when I look into his eyes, all I see is emptiness. He is well liked, but he does not know himself. He is vapid and adored. At least in my suffering I can be certain of two things. I know who I am, and I know that I suffer.

This is why I call him my roommate and not my friend. He does not know he suffers, therefore, he cannot know himself, and if he does not know himself, he cannot know me. He is like a stuffed animal - pleasant to look at and hold onto in the night, but offering only superficial comfort against the terror of absolute darkness.

Spending time with Mingus reminds me I am alone.