Once again, ladies and gentlemen, I sit in the dark, weary of the day just passed. With my melted
slurpee beside the keyboard, and my body slouched over my chair, I type slowly to the natural rhythm of my thoughts. I don't even think about what I write about anymore, I just allow enough mental capacity to check for spelling.
Work was work and again, it drifted quickly when I didn't think about it but slowed to a crawl when I did.
Today was a good day actually. Spent the majority of the night with a lovely young maiden. Quality time I suppose. She was on the phone most of the time but I enjoyed the view. We were by a body of water, whether it was the
Fraser River or the ocean, I don't know nor do I know how to distinguish them other than with the use of a globe. With the full moon out, the light from the water glimmered a slight yellow. It didn't reflect the moon properly, more like a wavy path. It was like a painting, and at the time, nothing seemed to matter. I didn't feel the cold, nor do I hear the talking in the background. Still in a daze, we leave to go to a playground.
From the swing set in which we sat at, I could still see the brightness of the moon. But it didn't have the majesty of the water, but the mysteriousness of the grassy field made up for it. We were there for a while, but she was on the phone for the majority of the time. I didn't mind. It seemed like she wasn't speaking. I phased out everything around me except the spectacular view and the slight sound that the breeze made when it grazed my ears. Then we speak for a while, about topics that were important to ourselves, not together but as individuals. We spoke for a while, but seemed like a short time to me. I blinked, and time passed. Then I brought her home.
It was
MrFurious birthday I presume. It was after midnight after all. It was a nice day so far, so I thought that maybe it was nice for me to go say hi but his house was dark and no one answered. Thats okay. At least I tried. I sure as heck wouldn't break down the door and get his
dog after me.
Then I come home. Back in the darkness. Back to my real home. It wasn't the place of concrete and stucco. Warm carpeted floors grazed my feet as I took my shoes off as I walked to my computer. I slowly placed my blanket over myself, one shoulder at a time. I blinked slowly, sat in my usual position, making sure that the computer chair didn't ruin the rug underneath. I slowly contemplate today's happenings when I get a phone call. Back to the drawing board. Headset on the ear, cell phone charging as we speak. The night is still young.
I sit here, pondering, whether why days like this didn't happen more often. I guess some people would attribute it to
destiny or
fate but I believe in neither. I might have at some point in time but not now. Its no longer a matter whether I'm worthy of such pleasant times or not. I no longer care. It doesn't matter anymore. As I always said, when it counted, small things make the difference. Too bad the little things come too late. I believe the term is "When it rains, it pours." I believe that to properly describe how it feels like right now to realize that I'm no longer feeling the "glow" of happiness, I have to refer to some literary classic. Simply put,
John Milton said it best with the title of his book, as I feel like
Paradise Lost. I bow out, and slink back into the crevasse which I have made my home for the past few weeks. Maybe then I'll understand why I shouldn't hope for the better.