Geoff spends his days alone.
He is left alone by his family.
He talks to his dogs. They sniff and ignore him.
Even when he is with others, he is alone. He is alone and thinking. ‘You think too much’ was a familiar comment put Geoff’s way by ex wife and older children.
‘You should spend more time doing stuff and less thinking’ was another. He shrugs and ignore these.
He isn’t happy.
He has no reason to be happy.
To be unconditionally happy strikes Geoff as at best weird and at worst delusional. He writes constantly.
This process doesn’t help him with a greater understanding of his world. He knows that others write better stuff than him. Wittier, sharper and with more originality.
Geoff would tell anyone that’s bothered to listen about why he writes. Thankfully for others, he is easily ignored.
Geoff is still alone. He is alone inside his head.