Thursday, August 11, 2005
Call From the Darkness
When I was in high school, I spent many nights outside. The call of Midnight was intense. I walked around in bare feet, sometimes for hours, pacing the street in front of my house. I pusehd myself into exhaustion; it was hard to sleep. Now I feel the same call. Midnight beckons, and I want to start walking. Perhaps it's the danger of high speeds and drunken drivers that just doesn't happen in the daytime. Perhaps it's the fresh air, or the round shapes of nature that don't form lines in my head. Maybe it's just nostalgia from an era when I was happier with myself, when I saw the mountaintop. Any excuse or way out, I'll take right now. The weeping willows and the thin dew on the ground reflect my pain without judgement. No matter what else, it seems I have the approval of the wild spaces and Midnight. I know it's just an illusion, but that illusion is better than my life right now. I can't go back to the place where I saw the mountaintop. Every day, I slip a little more. The darkness and the exhaustion of Midnight call me; I fight hard to stay where I am, but sometimes it feels like the old times when I'm outside. I had promise then that extended past my next dose.