Some nights
It just one of those nights.
I feel miserable. I feel as if the universe owes me something.
I take, and give… yet I can’t tell. What is it? What am I doing that makes it like this? Makes thing seem reasonable and sensical when I am just sad here in bed. What is it that makes me happy and myself? What is that makes me considerable in a game of five-a-side with my friends? For that call to arms to be with them in all walks of life. The embrace of warmth I feel when I know where I am and that the train which drives me has a rail which takes me to snowy mountains, sunset valleys and dew trodden meadows. I cannot explicitly act without remorse. Without question or regret teething on the back of my mind. Tormenting. Lamenting me, for the way I act. The way I think. And how I feel day to day. How can it be that I just exist, so harmful to the universe in expenditure of its energy yet no recall comes to call me to pack my bags and leave? Take me from whence I came as the ash to the final ash. I cannot apologize for any of it. I cannot apologize for the further remorse and tension created in the cosmic. All I can really do it sit back and enjoy the mess that is. The coffee stains on the beautiful wooden table of oak and splendor. Of the honey and cherry wine my blood contains which tastes oh-so-bitter at present. I know there is further time but all I can take is the strides forwards I am given. The stripes of light painted on the wall of my bedroom each morning, like the stripes of an aeroplane runway ready to take off. I hold my thumbs as tight as my heart every morning. I take off into the clouds where nothing is truly visible.
By Anonymous
