Mad Ramblings From a Blithering Idiot
It's a fabulously gorgeous night-unseasonably warm,
mild, and slightly breezy; the kind of night that inspires
poetry-and here I sit. It's the perfect evening to spend
walking aimlessly or sitting outside with someone close and
revealing all that tortures or delights the soul. It's so
beautiful that it gave me an ache in my chest and brought
tears to my eyes. I looked up at the moon, and the clouds
that were being blown over it swiftly by the wind brought
to mind Baroque landscape paintings.
The breeze is wonderful. It's like a caress from a
stiff grandmother-soft enough to show affection but with
just a hint of a chill. The air has such a personality; we
take it for granted sometimes.
But as lovely as this night is, it makes me feel even
more keenly the fact that I am alone, indoors, and the only
person with whom I can share my thoughts is myself. I'm
sick of being my sole companion. Where is a likeminded
spirit? Anywhere? Anyone? I want something tangible.
Something like I used to have. Wait, I must stop.
Reminiscing is worse than feeling morose and lonesome.
I'll just take a shower and wait for the morning to come.
There should be no more beautiful nights like this. I'm
sick of crying.
P.S. Something odd: for a wild moment while I was staring
at a particularly bright star, a thought of what scared me
a few nights ago flashed in my mind. I looked about,
smiled shakily to myself, and stopped my dog from digging
under the fence. Heh, the only reason I know that it's a
lovely night is the fact that Dinah and Pete had to pee.
Once again an asinine moment in my history.