« spreading freedom | Main | "This is real." »
January 22, 2005
into the void, i say boo.
it's late, and though i've made the wrong choice before and been too lucky getting home, tonight, it's not so bad. but still, it's another night, too much drink, and friends that like to make the rounds, live the life. mike's a good one - he just wants me to be happy. he's not so frivolous that he doesn't know better, but he seems to be able to keep the nights like tonight in balance with what really matters to him.
but i'm not so good at this, and it can get away from me. too prone to disappointment, too susceptible to disillusionment, too unwilling to play a part, too uninteresting to so much of what's out there, but also too uninterested in so much of what's out there.
sometimes, i press on, to the bitter end, watch the games play out around me, some real, some not, try my hand occasionally, shut down the bar. i say my goodnights. i'm happy for my time with my friends, happy to feel alive in a way, in the mix.
the walk to the car is always peaceful and not, walking alone, feeling the night winding down around me, feeling endings and beginnings, some memories simply transferring to a new location, stretching, seeking to make it to dawn.
how long has it been since i stayed awake with someone, just talking, just quiet, just being, feeling the joy and mild delirium of realizing the sun was rising?
music in the car, quieter now, zero 7, peter gabriel, frou frou sings of the dumbing down of love. the long road away from the city, moving swiftly, silently down the expressway, moving upstream in a river of lights, going home. the winding road, diving and sweeping through the curves, down into the valley, up the long hill.
and i arrive here, the cold closed out behind me, and my cats rub quietly against my legs, soundlessly, not playful, not demanding, the way i know that they feel and understand me at times when i need that.
and with all the friends i have, all the love available to me, i leave the lights off, sit before the computer, and send my thoughts and feelings off to someone i've never met before. someone that's not an enfatuation, just someone that i think understands. i think she listens, i think she cares, but i have no illusions or delusions about how much or what it means.
it doesn't matter. for me, here at midnight, it's like prayer, sending the cries and the silence in my heart into electronic skies, without censor or fear, wanting but not expecting response, just speaking into the void, for the sake of the faith that something might be heard.
Posted by Rob at January 22, 2005 12:09 AM