The Nighttime and Me
Jul. 7th, 2001 01:24 amThe nighttime and me, it's a dangerous liaison. Part of me loves it, part of me hates it.
I love the nighttime... I love its clear fresh air, its brillant darkness. I love it how it gives me ideas and inspiration, how I can be free.
I hate the nightime... I hate it how it makes me feel lonely, how I realize how cold a place this world is. The night scares me easily.
I'm a slave to my emotions. I cannot help it. I wish I knew what decides how I will feel about the next night... Right now I'm feeling mellow, but peaceful. My palms are sticky. I hate that. But the night is clear and inviting. I can drink the dark air greedily in large gulps. The wind brushes over me as I lie on the lawn, the fading full moon above me... I yearn for complete darkness, absolute silence. Just the moon and me, and the wind caressing my skin. At night. When people don't look at me. How I love it...
I saw a shooting star cutting through the carpet of sparkling diamonds. I did not make a wish for it had come true that very moment. Happiness... lightness of the soul. Unbearable lightness? I think not. What is there to bear when your soul takes wings and flies freely?
I love the nighttime... I love its clear fresh air, its brillant darkness. I love it how it gives me ideas and inspiration, how I can be free.
I hate the nightime... I hate it how it makes me feel lonely, how I realize how cold a place this world is. The night scares me easily.
I'm a slave to my emotions. I cannot help it. I wish I knew what decides how I will feel about the next night... Right now I'm feeling mellow, but peaceful. My palms are sticky. I hate that. But the night is clear and inviting. I can drink the dark air greedily in large gulps. The wind brushes over me as I lie on the lawn, the fading full moon above me... I yearn for complete darkness, absolute silence. Just the moon and me, and the wind caressing my skin. At night. When people don't look at me. How I love it...
I saw a shooting star cutting through the carpet of sparkling diamonds. I did not make a wish for it had come true that very moment. Happiness... lightness of the soul. Unbearable lightness? I think not. What is there to bear when your soul takes wings and flies freely?
no subject
Date: 2001-07-06 07:23 pm (UTC)