The night has always been a restless time for me. I guess it’s natural for night to be a bit more bleak than the day. There’s a sense of isolation from being awake at this hour. While I know I’m nowhere near alone, especially on a Friday night, it feels like there’s just…nothing really left to do until morning. Nothing with other people, at least.
It’s a time for pacing. For stalking around a room, humming tunes and questioning where you might be headed. That’s how I act. I used to daydream about a lot of stuff when I was younger. Silly fantasies. Now? Not so much.
I miss that a bit. I miss being able to just go outside and lose myself in a story that doesn’t really go anywhere, but sort of exists perpetually. If I could capture that in words, it would be amazing. But words fail. They can’t capture the feeling properly. It comes off sounding stupid, when it’s really sublime.
Have you ever lost yourself in being someone else? In being something more? I doubt I’m alone in that. But wow, how I wish I could recapture the feeling.
