Sappy Late Night Nothings.

It’s a beautiful night. I’ve been working ever since I woke up, and for some reason, I blanked out for two hours. I did absolutely nothing, and it felt..it felt like nothing, which in turn felt great. The weather is beautiful tonight, painfully chilly, and very ‘there’. It got me thinking about the last time I just sat up to watch the sunrise. It’s been a while since I did that, I liked to stay up late at night just to see if I could tell the rate at which the sun comes up, and yes I mean the actual mathematical rate, and I always miscalculated it, which in turn made me stay up late the next night, and the next night, and the next night. I’d make my mug of coffee and watch old plays and feel like a grownup. Sometimes I’d bring my blankey and cuddle into a ball on the desk in the balcony, so my sky vision is panoramic. I’d pretend there’s no ledge, and no gravity. It’s the kind of cold night that fills your head and nostrils with its presence, stops your weary head and compels you to hear its whooshes, and only its whooshes. It doesn’t leave room for any of your worries, and it consumes the illusion of time, warps it, replenishes it, extinguishes it, makes the time tunnel take all sorts of tumbles and turns, bringing you back and forth like a copper boomerang in an AC magnetic field, lost, controlled by a random pattern that can neither be pinpointed nor formulated into an equation. It tricks your head into not registering memories, since you can’t really feel time, or acknowledge it, and you’re free of time, remembering and being. The cold gives even the intangibles presence, it somehow freezes your feelings over so you don’t get emotional sickness, and things that used to hurt are only ‘there’..and they don’t hurt anymore,  it makes you aware of how many things are ‘there’, and somehow, with so many things that are there, there’s no room for anything else. Not even you. And it feels..splendid.

The kind of night that sounds like this: