All the lonely people, where do they all come from?

Where am I? Is this a particular place the one I am in or could it be anywhere in the world?

What hurts the most is knowing that this is just a tiny spot in a big planet where I have no one.
No one to think at when I won't be here, as if I'd never been here, as if I'd never walked this grass, as if I'd made no changes here.

Does anyone notice me? Does anyone notice my absence?

What is a place if you have no one there? Is it a picture you're gonna show to your children many years later, thinking how cool it was being there? Is it a postcard you send to a real place where someone can truly recognise you? Is it a road? May it be a laughter or the look in someone else's eyes?

We just need someone that can describe us, perhaps with a name, perhaps with a poetry in a foreign language, perhaps with a flower, sometimes with a hug.

"All the lonely people, where do they all come from?"
I think they don't come from anywhere, since they don't live in nobody's memory.
A place is only a way to make memory real.

Laura Zalenga Photography http://laurazalenga.de/en/

[Some Sara's sad night thoughts, 29/07/14]