One of the little understood facets of the night is how quickly it flees from you. The world is not a place split in half, if anything it is split in thirds and the night only occupies one of those thirds. So it is not surprising to see the days come and go and the nights to pass by in a haze and a flash.
So here I am, haven't posted in over two months. Which is not say I have not been up late at night, that I have not stood on my porch and looked out at the city lights, the night sky, the dark haze that permeates all aspects of life. I have been out there from time to time. I have stared into the dusk and the dawn.
I have had profound thoughts. I have forgotten profound thoughts.
But pith is a trick of the light and the shadows know better. But the shadows also know enough to keep their heads down and murmur and not raise a stir about how pith looks like an idiot when he's not on.
There is a quiet at night, an empty head-space that gives thoughts a place to reverberate and speak up and shout and fret without worry that the light of day will make them feel small and weak. The night is a time of strength for the smallest of things. Insects teem, star light shines down, dreams are given life and time. Night is the time of inner creation, a time to produce intangibles.
A place to hide from certain harsh lies told in the day. A place to let your eyes close and that feeling of exhaustion and bustled hopelessness to drip from your fingers like a warm rain.
The night is a silent and constant friend that will always be waiting for you at the end of the light, a darkness filled with more warmth then anything the sun has to offer.
And it will go away and it will return.
Just like you.
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