But like most nights, I can't.
It's become foreign to me. A good night's sleep.
The thoughts race like sugar-high children on holiday morning. (No presents, kids. Sorry.)
I don't know where I'm going with this.
*Do I ever?
But seriously. I'm just sitting here, rambling.
The winter winds are biting in.
I can feel it, not only on my skin but in my bones.
They shiver and rattle like our old play things.
I wish I could remember the feeling of my childhood. Don't get me wrong, I do have a pretty uncanny memory if i do say so myself. But see, there's the problem. I only have the memory of the moment, not the emotion. I don't know where it went. Growing up can be such a pain.
I'm really tired.
I have set up a playlist on spotify...
And this playlist, it's different. Each song doesn't mean much by itself in relation to me. But the mix of these fourteen songs provides a lens into my mind that only a few people on this Earth have ever known.
I apologize for bringing that up, since, well, I do not intend to disclose the order or even the title of those tracks. But they're playing in repetition, and I will probably listen to them all night. So yes, I apologize.
I've got a lot to apologize for.
But, "maybe redemption has stories to tell." Who knows?
I'm trying to reform, to change. I truly am trying to be the best I can be.
But forgive me when I stray, when I lose sight, when blindly I make my mistakes.
I know that ignorance and naivety are no excuse, but still I ask that you forgive me.
The animals just started making weird noises.
I hear them almost every night. I don't fear them as I used to, nor do I fear the sound.
But every time I hear thel sound, my neck quivers and my hairs find new life on arms and the back of my neck. I can't help that miniscule lightning bolt that snakes down the inside of my spine.
It's terrifying. It's beautiful.
I don't know why I find it beautiful. Maybe it's because that is them. Their raw existence being thrust out into the night sky. And you can tell, you can so tell.
You can tell if they howl out of anguish or sadness. You can hear the somber tones that sing to your body and tell you the tales of woe.
And you can tell if they sing in glee. You can feel the sensation of bliss explore your muscle fibers and awaken the primal soul inside of you.
And for a moment you know what it feels like to let go of yourself completely and be absolutely naked and vulnerable. You know it through their cries.
But when will you know it for yourself?
How do find that in ourselves?
I'm looking. I'm trying.
Again, forgive me as I wander that path to find it.
And don't worry,
I'll send a postcard if I get there.