Yes, it is one of those nights. One of those evenings where I watch Closer, contemplate my every move, and wonder where I'll wind up a week, month from now. I'm not downtrodden, nor am I exceptionally elated. I'm here, existing on a Thursday night. Rather than participating in the usual monotonous college debauchery, I am absorbing every word of "The Birth of Tragedy," and actually enjoying it!
It's one of those nights where I wish I could share the story of my life, heart full of honesty, and be listened to in return. To converse about the past, present, and future with complete confidence. I only wish I had a listener.
I could ponder love and wonder why some of us are temporarily destined to be lonely. I hopelessly hang onto the word "temporarily" and pray that it is, indeed, the truth. I could let my mind wander and calculate the possibility of someone laying in their bed, as I am now, thinking about the same things, and maybe even about me.
But honestly, I'm not that wonderful at math.
One of the nights where I could drive around aimlessly for hours, with no certain destination. I'd like to walk in the dark just to see my breath, or swing at a playground and soar into infinity.
I want to be infinite.