So there is this reoccurring problem that I seem to have. When it’s dark and cool enough for me to wearily lay face-down into a pillow, when I have my music playing as quietly in the background as softly as possible so its thunderous roar can drown out the din, when all the light is out so I can study darkness and bathe in moonlight, I find that I am left alone with my worst enemy, myself, my thoughts.
Even now while it’s happening live, I project my thoughts into a little keypad on an iPhone (which, side-note, how awesome). I’m hoping that my brain or center or soul or whatever becomes satiated and the disquiet becomes quiet and isolation seems distant nestled in the loving, caressing arms of unconsciousness.
And while self-medication could be a lifeline to grab, I would feel infinitely more quelled by knowing I had dealt with the cause, not symptom, and that a longterm solution found with only positive effects and potentially limitless lifespan, or rather, as limited as my own…
Harken unto the night I do the most arrogant and verbose rhetoric.