Dear Diary. i went for a walk tonight, albeit with much protesting and warnings to stay away from water. which is silly, because drowning is obviously low on my list of ways to leave this world. honestly, i've tried it before when i was young, [not intentionally, mind.] and was thoroughly unimpressed.
i went to that layered car park in front of that hotel they're building. it'll be finished soon, but no-one's around when it's dark, so it's quite alright. 6 floors it has, with two flights each. i dare say it's a bit of a job getting up, but i do. i took my ipod this time, just for the hell of it, and i'm glad i did. i sat down against one of the walls, and it was such that the hotel loomed up in front of me, all lit up [why they do this i have no idea, but it's very lovely to look at] like some abandoned tower, with its many floors and windows. i looked at this for a while, and then the rested my head back on the concrete. and what should i see, but the Moon perfectly in my field of vision, full and bright with only a few wispy fingers of cloud near it. it was now that i hit play, and by some odd chance, the music exactly matched the mood. mournful, but also very pretty.
now here is the problem. this is on all accounts a very romantic scene before me, with every detail almost as if out of my mind as how i'd want it, and you'd think some memory would come floating in,of a face or perhaps even faces, of someone i'd wish to share this with, and do stupid childish things like "make out" with. and we both know, Diary, that i have had no shortage of faces that would be considered right for this. but oddly, not a one came to mind. yes i could force myself to think of her, or her, or even her, but it wasn't natural. it didn't flow in easily like i thought it would. and i was almost dismayed by this, for surely, this beautiful scene should inspire -something-, some thought or wishful musing, should it not? but it didn't. i just sat there, pondering why the hell i wasn't thinking of what i thought i would think.
i gave up soon, and upon standing, hit the button to skip the song. ah Lux Aeterna. but not the normal one, the more epic remix. quite oddly, a breeze picked up. nothing great or cold, but it woke me. and at the same time, a feeling was beginning to bubble as the song got going. first it was only small movements, but it quickly developed into such as where, instead of going right to the stairs to leave, i began walking down the ramp, vividly "conducting" my hands to the music. i was aware i probably looked like i was having some sort of brain meltdown, but the isolation was so otherplanet like, that i didn't feel the need to care. i spun and flailed, marking each upheaval and cymbal crash with slashes and sweeps, and other moments.
i felt, alive.
it's quite disturbing to find yourself chuckling and laughing when you don't realize you were that happy. but i did,i felt totally alone and almost ecstatic about it.
that feeling lasted until i got down the stairs, and almost half way home.
but then the predictable realization of just -why- a nearly 23 year old virgin male, who had been flailing like an idiot for the past hour, who was trudging home to his parents who were already out wondering why he'd been so long, so he could go to bed and wake up tired and aching and sick to his fucking stomach of living, was alone set in.
i supposed i'm writing this to convince myself it wasn't a dream. i hate dreaming.