Thursday, October 14, 2010

The Dark World in Which I Dwell

It's six o'clock A.M., and I need to take a walk.

I leave the lights of my house and head in the direction that my brain says to, this naturally being the playground near my neighborhood. The wet asphalt beneath my boots glimmers like so many useless diamonds, each a fake and flimsy memory of the past year. Metaphors, metaphors. I drown in a sea of them; it's my natural habitat.

The world is black, and the sky is the color of an aging bruise. Its a sad solace to know that I'm the only creature of my sort wandering those streets, endlessly searching, never seeking, and never finding anything.

The houses all scream the same lesson at my brain: I will never be a part of this. I will never sit with my family in front of the television and talk to my kids about what they've got planned for the day. I will never kiss my wife goodbye as we both head off to work. I am condemned to see these things from the outside.

I am condemned to walk alone, more or less, until I find a place that suits my soul. Some dark hole, I'm sure.

Until the next time wold, enjoy.

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