Sometimes it feels the more I see, the less I know. Like each question is only answered by other questions. The space between these lines is full, but of what, I’m not sure. It’s mystery, like a gentle lullaby, holds my head and relays my consciousness to the world of sleep and dreams. It’s echoing voice pacifying my racing heart and wandering mind.

It’s incredible to think that the static on television screen is actually the fingerprint of all creation. The cosmic background radiation of the universe’s formation billions of years ago being picked up by the monitor instead of the 5 o’ clock news or the new episode of game of thrones. It’s amazing that something so insignificant, annoying even, can be so significant. Each night before I fall asleep, I stand at my window and map the stars. The combined light from the moon and the stars draw lines on my carpet like sand. Calming my restless soul. For one reason or another I have grown to love this time of my day.

Ever since I can remember, the night has always been a strange time for me. The twilight bringing with it great unrest, loneliness, and wanting. For me, the night was when the world would slow and my mind would race. Or maybe it was always racing and it was just quiet enough at night for me to hear it. I remember this crushing feeling I would get while laying in bed. Like a weight placed on my chest. I would feel like crying but I couldn’t. Stuck somewhere in limbo between the past and future, not quite present in my own reality though.

I wanted out. Out of my head. Out of my room. Out of under the foot of these feelings I didn’t understand. I could not escape though. Music although a big part of my life, even at that time, could not be trusted. It’s harmony and beauty too powerful to seek shelter within. My emotions too volatile to be left to the chemical throws each note would bring. So that left me only one option, silence. Silence sometimes had the ability to clear my head but mostly it would only give way to the sound of my beating heart and the creaks of the settling house. Whispers echoing in my head.

It seems like the darkness no longer holds that power over me. And for once in my life I am not running anymore. I was lost for so long. Searching for an identity. Searching for who I am. Trying to understand what I am and where I belong. And now, I still don’t really know where I fit in, but that’s ok, I have faith my leaves will settle in to sunlight some day. I have learned a lot about myself and what kind of man I want to be and it hasn’t been easy. Along the way I have learned that I am vulnerable but also strong. Almost in equal parts. But I think the same can be said about most people. The night will always come, at least for as long as I’m around, but I don’t fear the slowing world anymore. Because somewhere in my travels I learned that in order to see the beauty of the simplest things, you must first see the simplicity of beauty.

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