Forced Euphoria
I’ve been pretty off lately. Not necessarily the bad sort of off… just… off. The sort that makes sights more vivid, and the air more crisp. The sort that inspires thought both uplifting and depressing.
Monday night, I didn’t sleep. Spurred by a mixture of far more coffee than should be logically imbibed after a night shift, and the haphazard desire for a meaningful, life altering experience, I’m burned through the night with fervor and purpose. Or at least, trying to find one.
My mind drifted, and I couldn’t help by take stock of my life. Do I regret what I’ve done? Have I wasted these years?
I couldn’t ignore my solitude, the years spent in front of this screen, encompassed in the warm pixely glow of it’s cathodes. Time better spent out in the world, taking in all it has to offer. Air that’s stirred by more than the dying motor of a ceiling fan. A footing covered less in worn fibers and squeaky spots, and more by soil and plant. But in all my self-loathing, I realized that if I was truly so repulsed by my own squandered youth, I’d have done something to change it.
The people I’ve never met, never seen in any form but that of text. They mean more too many than they can ever know. They are my family, and I refuse to feel remorse, to feel guilt, for being here when they needed me, and I have to thank them for doing the same.
Between attempts at philosophy, and my own self-indulgent introspection, a thought squeezed into my gray matter. In 18 years, I’ve never seen a sunrise.
I’ve seen it fall in glorious hues. The sky lit ablaze in yellows and oranges. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved. But for whatever reason, I’ve never watched it rise. I felt like I was missing something. It wasn’t the grand panacea to my problems, but it was certainly something I needed. Like the words to Piano Man, it’s something everyone should know.
Four, five, six o’clock. I passed the time talking to Gabe, and perching myself in the windowsill. Snow caught in the shingles, and I zipped up my coat a bit more. Cold wouldn’t deter me. I waited, only to find my view to obscured by expansive suburbia and over cast skies. I think someone is conspiring against me.
Monday night, I didn’t sleep. Spurred by a mixture of far more coffee than should be logically imbibed after a night shift, and the haphazard desire for a meaningful, life altering experience, I’m burned through the night with fervor and purpose. Or at least, trying to find one.
My mind drifted, and I couldn’t help by take stock of my life. Do I regret what I’ve done? Have I wasted these years?
I couldn’t ignore my solitude, the years spent in front of this screen, encompassed in the warm pixely glow of it’s cathodes. Time better spent out in the world, taking in all it has to offer. Air that’s stirred by more than the dying motor of a ceiling fan. A footing covered less in worn fibers and squeaky spots, and more by soil and plant. But in all my self-loathing, I realized that if I was truly so repulsed by my own squandered youth, I’d have done something to change it.
The people I’ve never met, never seen in any form but that of text. They mean more too many than they can ever know. They are my family, and I refuse to feel remorse, to feel guilt, for being here when they needed me, and I have to thank them for doing the same.
Between attempts at philosophy, and my own self-indulgent introspection, a thought squeezed into my gray matter. In 18 years, I’ve never seen a sunrise.
I’ve seen it fall in glorious hues. The sky lit ablaze in yellows and oranges. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved. But for whatever reason, I’ve never watched it rise. I felt like I was missing something. It wasn’t the grand panacea to my problems, but it was certainly something I needed. Like the words to Piano Man, it’s something everyone should know.
Four, five, six o’clock. I passed the time talking to Gabe, and perching myself in the windowsill. Snow caught in the shingles, and I zipped up my coat a bit more. Cold wouldn’t deter me. I waited, only to find my view to obscured by expansive suburbia and over cast skies. I think someone is conspiring against me.