Wilderness and warmth

I need my wilderness like the air that I breathe. To exist, to be, to live. I need it deep, into my bones,into my soul, in a world that I barely understand. In a world without meaning, in a world full of grey people, in a world where only superficial feelings, relations, involvements occur, in a world where I keep on giving all my warmth and keep on searching for a damn fucking gesture of warmth, of caring, 'cause I'm fucking blind when it comes to it. I need wilderness to see, and wilderness to feel, and wilderness to burn and use all my energy that is eating me inside, and stubbornness, to still believe in something, in that “goodness” of people, in people who are different, in a world, in a future worth living for. 
 Let me be. And let me live.