What is it with the late night hours that allow my creative juices to swell with activity?
I miss taking midnight walks. They were thinking walks–meditative. I took them freely when I lived on my own, but when I came back to mis padres’ casa I was forced to stay in. Not really forced, but persuaded due to their staunch advocacy of staying indoors past a certain hour. …I guess some people associate this sort of activity with…a curfew. A feeling of yuck just washed over me. I…at 27…have a curfew? Well, not exactly. I do come home at dawn after late nights out on a near weekly basis. But when I’m out, I can’t be governed. When I’m in…oh, am I governed. (Was that last line dripping with disdain as noticeably for you as it was for me? Thought so.) The two darling individuals who gave birth to me seem to have a great fear of the city within they live. Not even ‘within’, but in a suburb of. It’s at least a half hour drive to anything worthwhile and that’s WHILE speeding (not that I ever speed, because I would never do that; this is just hearsay).
I feel safe under the lights of the city at night. In fact, darkness is hard to come by in a city. And if a dark corner is found, surely, there is where the seediest nocturnal acts occur. But the lines are drawn, and if you can perceive the boundaries of right and wrong, good or bad, you can live safely within any element (and it differs given the sphere within which you tread). I will take my chances in the city. My birthgivers will take theirs in what they consider comfortable: the outskirts, sidelines, bench of life.
Next week I move into one of my favorite ATL ‘hoods. I’m excited to be within walking distance to many an entertaining venue. I will be in ‘the city’ — which means I will have much to explore on foot. This idea thrills me beyond belief (perhaps not so beyond unless you can believe or feel the tingling that just rushed out of my core and through my limbs via reading my text). I am also thrilled by the idea of beginning a new segment of my life. I feel I’m shedding skin. A new home, though still close to my last, is still an occasion for celebration of new possibilities. It is there I will be able to flourish so that I may be ready for the next stepping stone in my future. (I think I live many lives. Reincarnation seems real in that it all occurs within one lifetime.)
I don’t know how much longer I will embrace youth, but I know I still have a number of experiences to live before I come close to settling in life as my parents have. The great divide between us motivates me to separate myself. The farther I travel, the better I will know if I need return. If I needn’t return, my only hope is that they feel no pain, but the same fulfillment from mere potential that I have in my heart. May they burn to fight complacency as I do. At times I fall into ruts, but it is the moments of consciousness that foster change. And change is what quickens my existence.
A toast to fighting complacency!
Good night.
Even a sentence is an artistic composition.
