It is untrue to say that we are not alone. We are ultimately
and undeniably alone.

The path which we take through life is one of sadness, and
one of lonely madness. To some, their madness is the raving
need to share their emotions and thoughts.
For others it is the thundering fear of reaching out,
causing them to stay silent and shuddering in the darkness.

Sometimes when two lonely entities pass through the
life-course of each other, they try and share their lunatic
ravings, comparing them. Sometimes they agree that one
twisted fact is as they both believe it to be (according to
their mad ideas). At other times they disagree about a fact,
one sure the sky is blue, the other; that they are black.
And then one of these mad prophets (sheep's clothing raving
wolves, raving wolfs) will lock the other away, try to cure
him, extend his illuminated propaganda into his fellow
madman using medicinal drugs and the careful moderate use of
electric shock to enlighten the sick pup into those beliefs
he himself delude about. Sometimes it works. Other times it
fails miserably.

But generally, the large majority of the mad "talkers" in
the world agree about most basic facts. Almost everybody
believes that the sky is blue, and that the sun rises in the
east and sets in the west each day and night (in that
specific order). Thus, only the silent ones remain. Those
are the ones who believe in something different then their
fellow human entities, but are too afraid to say it. This is
in no way saying that they are sane. Because they do not
speak their ravings out loud it is generally believed that
they are sane (even though silent, and thus there is no one
to destroy any shadow of the truth - if it accidentally
finds them - in a miserable attempt to cure them of such
insanities.)

Eventually, only the quiet ones are the ones who might, in
some twisted turn of luck or fate (if those things even
exist), open up to the sad truth - that there is no one
sane. Anywhere. Never have been, and never will be.

And, as said before, because they will not utter this
horrible truth, is why they might continue to hold it within
them, pondering about it, for the rest of their pathetic,
lonely, mad existence.

And they will never tell anyone, or if they do, no one will
believe them.

They will call them mad and lock them away.

And the truth shall never be known.

And thus we are alone. We silent few.