9.04.2005
nighttime and lovemaking
i was sitting out on the front porch, smoking a cigar, and wondering at the stars, the security lights across the puget sound, loneliness, god, and some of the other great whys of the experience that we've titled the universe or creation, for lack of a better description. my mind is stangely and serenely opened and numbed from the combination of nicotiene and the coffee i drank earlier in the day...
when i listen for the answers, i only hear more questions, but i ride with the experience.
the existence of stars, however one may choose to explain their workings, seems to me to prove the existence of some force, some grand planner even, because they are too large to understand in the workings of my own small being. i wondered briefly what it's direction was, and how i fit in, then realized that i was anthropomorphizing some beauracratic diety, not to mention briefly believing i was the center of creation, all too human
i watched a satellite trail across the sky, and i wished i knew how to shoot it down.
i wonder why people seem to need to put security lights outside their homes. if i was a thief, the light wouldn't stop me, i'd knock it out with a pellet gun or just go around it. the lights don't keep the animals away from the houses either. i don't really understand why one would want them kept away, anyway. are we that afraid of the night? i sat out on the cliff with a friend earlier in the week, and she remarked that perhaps they are waiting for someone to come home. i responded "all night, every night, for years? what kind of loser never comes home? and all those people? there must be a few hundred lights on." it has taken me til this moment to realize that perhaps what they are waiting for is that connection with the world, or spirit, or god, and that's who they are leaving the light on for. i wonder what would happen if one were to point out that the connection is already there and that one is already home if we are open...
the night, the land, the stars, seemed to be wanting to make love, or to want love to be made. i thought of, and missed, past-time intimate friends with whom i have watched stars and slept on porches. they've moved on and so have i, and that is for the best. the melancholy i feel is more of a pleasant ache that comes with a change in the weather, rather than the immediate itch of a healing wound. perhaps the life i live now is worth sharing again. perhaps it is time to give the night what it asks for. time will tell...
when i listen for the answers, i only hear more questions, but i ride with the experience.
the existence of stars, however one may choose to explain their workings, seems to me to prove the existence of some force, some grand planner even, because they are too large to understand in the workings of my own small being. i wondered briefly what it's direction was, and how i fit in, then realized that i was anthropomorphizing some beauracratic diety, not to mention briefly believing i was the center of creation, all too human
i watched a satellite trail across the sky, and i wished i knew how to shoot it down.
i wonder why people seem to need to put security lights outside their homes. if i was a thief, the light wouldn't stop me, i'd knock it out with a pellet gun or just go around it. the lights don't keep the animals away from the houses either. i don't really understand why one would want them kept away, anyway. are we that afraid of the night? i sat out on the cliff with a friend earlier in the week, and she remarked that perhaps they are waiting for someone to come home. i responded "all night, every night, for years? what kind of loser never comes home? and all those people? there must be a few hundred lights on." it has taken me til this moment to realize that perhaps what they are waiting for is that connection with the world, or spirit, or god, and that's who they are leaving the light on for. i wonder what would happen if one were to point out that the connection is already there and that one is already home if we are open...
the night, the land, the stars, seemed to be wanting to make love, or to want love to be made. i thought of, and missed, past-time intimate friends with whom i have watched stars and slept on porches. they've moved on and so have i, and that is for the best. the melancholy i feel is more of a pleasant ache that comes with a change in the weather, rather than the immediate itch of a healing wound. perhaps the life i live now is worth sharing again. perhaps it is time to give the night what it asks for. time will tell...
# posted by new jack city @ 11:11 PM 
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