Clock strikes midnight, and the time is now, once again, mine. I collect myself, dust the dirt and sand from my skin, and stand up. The wind sucks me through, and then here I am, once again. The big green door closes behind me, too late to go back in, too soon to return, and here I am, alone for another long, long night.
I'm tired, sleepy as always. Energies low, bodies sore, the works. No sleep tonight, though. Brain isn't quite okay to turn off. I look in the sky and see the black sun leaving the sky as the blue moon comes back. For a while, I hated what I saw. Everyone loves sun, but I never got to meet him. No one ever talked about moon, so I thought he'd be weird. Turns out he's charming. I've come to appreciate him. He's all I've got now anyways.
I greet moon and make my way across the street, yawning as I wave. The streets are cold and lonely. Can't be loud, don't want to wake anyone up. Can't burden them with what I've gotta deal with, wouldn't be fair. So I tiptoe my way around till I find somewhere to lay down. What I wouldn't give to fall asleep right now.
Lucky me, found a couch. It's old, grey and dirty. Someone must've abandoned the damn thing on the sidewalk. Still, it's something. I lay down, pull my earphones out, and play some tracks. Don't know what I'm feeling, so I shuffle. Five songs in and I've got it. I close my eyes and try drifting off, but it doesn't work. It never works. I'm not supposed to see anything when I close my eyes, but I see flashes. I see lights behind my eyelids dancing. They're blue and yellow, zipping in and out of existence. Try turning, tossing, looking the other way. but there's always another one. God damn it.
I'm stubborn though, don't wanna give up. Doesn't matter how shit this couch is, or how cold I feel all the time, I want to sleep. Moon watches me. I do this every night. He knows how it'll end, and he cries for me.
Through the music, my earphones make a bling. Maybe someone else is awake! Maybe I won't be alone! Oh holy days maybe... maybe someone wants to talk to me!
Nope. Just another automated email from my bank. Thanks CIBC.
Might as well get up. Don't like wasting time. I'd much, oh so much rather be doing something. Working. Reading. Writing. Using the brain I've so carefully tried to craft and grow.
I wander the empty and barren streets, just looking for something, just something to do. I hate feeling unproductive. Hate feeling inferior to everyone around me accomplishing everything they set their damn minds too. Hate feeling like I'm second foot, or that I'm just not enough. Ah well, I know I'll pass them all with time anyway. That's always what it is, you know. I don't outdo someone's results. I don't become better than them, they become worse than me. Keeps happening, too. It's happened as long as I've been in this game, and it finally happened until there was no one left besides me. The best, finally. So deserved isn't it?
Look there, a big open, empty space! Looks like a parking lot. There's a few cars. Don't think anyones in them, though. I love parking lots. I've spent so much time in them, too. I got really lonely back in the day, even more than I do during the night. Reminds me of easter. Couldn't tell you why I did it, but I walked the perimeter of my local mall. Tried so hard finding someone to spend some time with, someone to make me forget my pains of the day. But it was easter! The mall was closed, and friends were indisposed. Just me, far from home wandering again. The parking lot was empty, though. Sun and I stuck around there for a while, walking back and forth, crouching, sitting and chilling on the pavement. It was nice. Didn't change how I felt, but it was nice the same. That was when I still saw him. Don't know what he's like now. I miss him. I miss all of them.
Don't have the energy to dance in parking lots like I used to, though. When I wake up now, my body hurts. I'm always tired, always sleepy. Green door took a tole on me, so now I can't do what I used to. No one will listen. I've tried telling them when it started, tried telling them why it happens. They hear but don't listen as they suggest things I've tried. Phone away an hour before, shower before you sleep, melatonin. The green doors bigger. Somehow, it's so much bigger. And it sweeps me away every night. I've got goals too, you know. You think this is what I want? It used to be. It isn't anymore. I'm just tired of hearing it's my fault. It couldn't be... right?
That's not really a fair question, though. See this is what nights really about. Questions the day doesn't dare ask. Not working, not eating, not sleeping, not wondering what consequences would come the next day, this. Creating these questions, and creating the stories that'd follow. So here's the question of tonight: Is it my fault or was it out of my control? I take a seat on the pavement of the parking lot and get to thinking.
I've got a funny way to start this discussion, moon. Werner Heisenberg. You know him, moon? You don't? Well of course not. Successful people were gifted with sleep. Heisenberg was a quantum physicist, moon. He invented the uncertainty principle. It's really complicated. I don't really get it. What I took away from it, though, is that at a microscopic-atomic-quantum-light-speed level of being, you can't predict how things are going to go. Stephen Hawking's got this whole write up about it in his book, moon. You should give it a read. But anyway, if we can't predict that small state of affairs, how are we gonna predict the bigger stuff, y'know? I mean we've got precedence, but what about when the precedence doesn't work? Y'know, moon, they say you can never ever ever truly prove any theory right. You can only prove it wrong. Ain't it the same with precedences? I think so.
So okay, I can't expect everything I do to work out. Thats the point of all that. Great. But moon, does that mean it's my fault? I mean, it's the green door doing this. Whatever it is. Tosses me out and suddenly, poof! Here I am. Did I bring it about? I mean hey, I've been staying up late since I was a little kid who filled his bed with half a dozen stuffies. Maybe it's just a learnt behaviour by now. Does that mean it's my fault though? I was a little kid. The hell was I supposed to know any of this moon? The hell am I supposed to do about my body being conditioned for my entire life to stay up abominably late? Not much. So here I am.
Hey moon, thanks for being here. For listening to me answer my own question with a simple I don't know. I really appreciate you for it. I really appreciate you answering me. You know, moon, my loneliness doesn't stem from lack of effort. Feels like whenever I try forging a connection with someone, I'm left alone. I can read signs, talk for hours, really see something mutual building, but by the end it's just me. I'm grateful for friends, of which I have more than stars in the sky, but I've wanted a deeper connection for as long as I've know what it is. Forgive me if this is all too personal, moon. I get lethargic when I'm tired. The mental barriers of it all break away. Sorry, you shouldn't care to hear this.
Hey moon, am I the only one? Is it just me who's up this late every night, dealing with what I deal with? Or are there more like me out there, doing it because of the green door? I guess you wouldn't be able to tell me anyway.
Man, hours are fading fast. Swear it was just midnight. It's already one. Time flies, I guess. I feel bad. I should be asleep right now. I've got plans tomorrow. What is everyone going to think of me when I show up tired? How's my body going to recover the muscle strain? Guess I'll just be set back another day. Another useless day tomorrow. Oh well. Can't do anything about it now, I guess.
Just another night. Same as the last. Same as the next. Please tell me I'm not alone.
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