I like walking at night. The dim gaze of the stars above is often buried in the bright light of the street lamps. The moon hovering overhead as a guardian, with nothing to give but light and illuminate the spirit within. The faint sound of a horn blowing somewhere in the distance, enough to make you believe that you may have just imagined it. It often is a journey I look forward to; walking in the night. Because the night questions certainty. Questions faith. And what you believe in. Many a times, if I go out to someplace sparingly close to where I live, I often bail on the others midway through the night after making up a half-hearted excuse which is enough to convince me, if not them. And that's how I shirk the madness and the illusion of belonging. To where I am. And to what I do. It seems comforting to walk through those anfractuous roads which lead to a hundred unseen destinations. It didn't matter if I walked through that street twice every day, for the night seemed to cast its own indelible charm upon the street, seen only by those who believe in existence. Purity. Divinity.
Tonight should've felt just like any other. Similar, but different. The streets were calm and lifeless, but the air felt thicker. I usually found ecstacy within myself when it came down to the night walks, as something about the night brought back the deepest of my stained secrets and washed it clean until it was beautiful again. It was the only part of the day when I loved being alone. But tonight felt different. It felt like a night full of possibilities, when I didn't want any. The cold grew hands and wrapped them around my neck. The weather felt a little under the weather. I was expecting someone to bring warmth, bring heart. But nothing happened. The wind grew more unsettling by the moment, and the streets beamed as if to give out just one message. Tonight, you will not find what you are looking for. Could it be my home that I wouldn't find? That was improbable, because I was only a few moments away from home. But then again, home was not what I was looking for, was it? And then it sunk in. The air grew colder, the nature more hostile. The trees swayed in dismay, and the ravens flew around as if they felt my discomfort. My surroundings died. And just like that, everything was empty. Inane. Lifeless. And that's when I realised,
Tonight was the first night I didn't want to be alone.
Tonight should've felt just like any other. Similar, but different. The streets were calm and lifeless, but the air felt thicker. I usually found ecstacy within myself when it came down to the night walks, as something about the night brought back the deepest of my stained secrets and washed it clean until it was beautiful again. It was the only part of the day when I loved being alone. But tonight felt different. It felt like a night full of possibilities, when I didn't want any. The cold grew hands and wrapped them around my neck. The weather felt a little under the weather. I was expecting someone to bring warmth, bring heart. But nothing happened. The wind grew more unsettling by the moment, and the streets beamed as if to give out just one message. Tonight, you will not find what you are looking for. Could it be my home that I wouldn't find? That was improbable, because I was only a few moments away from home. But then again, home was not what I was looking for, was it? And then it sunk in. The air grew colder, the nature more hostile. The trees swayed in dismay, and the ravens flew around as if they felt my discomfort. My surroundings died. And just like that, everything was empty. Inane. Lifeless. And that's when I realised,
Tonight was the first night I didn't want to be alone.
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If my neurons are drunk enough to make me write this post, they're definitely drunk enough to appreciate your criticism. Shoot.