to end this catastrophic scene
tonight, everything has just felt different. i drove home from Red Eye, watching the smoke and steam rise through a manhole, and the lonely street made me feel all itchy inside my own skin. i feel like i want to break through whatever is holding me down and melt into the sidewalk, just become another part of this breathing being that we exist in. here is a snippet of my writing journal tonight:
there is this cold haze around the moon tonight. a shadow that makes me think about tomorrow, and the day after that, how different they'll be. how one flash of existance is so equally separate to the next, and how every life still seems to mirror the one before it. it's not in the way you walk down the cold, rain-soaked streets, or the neon lights that guide you through this town........... the loneliness we all share is in the breaths we take, the meaningless way we struggle through each task, going to work, drinking a beer, talking with friends. do you really believe tomorrow will be different? do you think avoiding the issue will make it drop out of sight, just another dust particle under your chair? the sky heats up, cars transport weary workers to their 9 to 5, lunch break at noon, dinner's at 7 and yes ma'am i'd like another cup of coffee, extra cream. this existance is just another spot on the horizon, another moment where you stop and watch steam rise from a sewer grate, dissapaiting in the midnight's hush. we don't have a lifeline, no one waiting at home with hot cocoa, no comfortable bed or job to keep us healthy, or sane.
all we have is the night. the endless blurring of reality. and ourselves.
i don't know what was inside me when i wrote this, some lonely or desolate creature, but it just came pouring out of my pen when i went to write whatever was trying to burst through my skin. melancholy. a word i could write my destiny with.
<3
meg