' When the lights go down in the city ' (Written December 5, 2007)

Literally.
(Why is it that I have pseudo-revolutionary thoughts at 3:15 in the A.M?
Why can't I be a normal non-insomniatic human being?)

Anyways, a big gust of wind has blown through the Santa Clarita Valley. Hearing its great power and gusto against my cold, glass window makes me feel almost at harmony with the elements. But nature's cruel, cruel, constantly changing face has decieved me yet once more.
The air for some reason, has been cold and bitter. Every night, I watch the gray-blue sky turn into black, against fiery red leaves. None of the neighborhood children are out to play. There is no sound of laughter outside.
Suddenly, things have become to feel icy. And it has been easy to slip into a state of indifference, apathy, mediocrity, and melancholy. In general, lonliness. And it certainly is a feeling hard to express, understand, and communicate without fake symapthy from my audience.

My throat is itchy. My glands are swollen. My skin is clammy. My eyes are burning. My nose is dripping.
I'm quite ill.
And rather unappealing, and ugly.
And sometimes, a good book, satin blankets, and orange blossom tea just doesn't cure it.

No, no. Instead, I lay down, daydream, and stare. Sometimes at nothing, and sometimes at everything. There are four golden, twinkling lights across the rolling hills. If I listen closely, I can hear the thundering jake-breaks being pressed firmly by tired truck drivers on the Interstate-5 Freeway.
Predatory owls hoot, and swoop from tall Fern trees, hunting for prey. Coyotes howl in a sort of sad, lonely tune in the rusty brush in the midst of a cold midnight. Crickets and some sort of insects harmonize their own beautiful melodies in the quiet, still air.
The moon shines, and hits every object laying inanimately below it. It gives everything a new type of life. A different life than the sun.
Shadows move against closed blinds and closed doors of neighboring houses.
...I thought I was the only one awake.
Then I realized, a whole new world begins once the sun disappears against the Western horizon.

I see lights. And I still hear movement. It is slight, but it is still there. I still gaze down the hill, and see so many, many lights.
Then I realized, sometimes, the lights don't ever go down in the city. Or rather, sometimes, the lights don't ever go down in some people's lives. Here I am, at 3:00 A.M, with nothing better to do than try to beat insomnia.

But some people are now awaking for work. ' Must get dinner on the table..., ' one might say, fighting off the fatigue from the hard day of work at two jobs from the day before.
Oh, the bitter cycle of trying to live your own life.

Some people could be still awake, trying to find an answer. Trying to find a hope. Trying to find a new life. ' Must get something better..., ' one might say, dreaming of the seemingly impossible rags to riches story.
Oh, the bitter cycle of trying to live your own life.

Some people could be crying- crying from the depths of their heart and soul. Life is so, so hard. The bills. The mortgage. The children. The debt. The never ending arguing. ' Must put an end to this life..., ' one might say, debating life versus death.
Oh, the bitter cycle of trying to live your own life.


We are all living in the same world. We are all breathing the same air. We are all sharing the same time.

In comparison to this world, I suddenly began to feel small and futile.

But, just sitting here and looking out my window, even in my own bedroom, a small part of my heart and brain also quickly came to realize that through this, we are all connected. We are all similar. We are all equal. There are so many people. So many souls. So many lives.

So many feel alone.
So many feel small.
So many feel that there is no answer.
So many feel that there is something better.
But they just don't know where it is.

This world has been sown together by dreams, thoughts, plans, ideas, successes, visions, and ambitions. But also by failure, defeat, and loss.

But so many people look at the failure and dwell on it.

So many people. So many souls. So many lives.

So many feel alone.
So many feel small.
So many feel that there is no answer.
So many feel that there is something better.
But they just don't know where it is.

Do not be concerned. Turn off your light.
And turn on your inner light; your soul.

Forget the cares of the world, and run with me through these grassy meadows, through rays of sunshine and warmth. Feel the cool, crisp air between the fibers of your hair, and through the joints of your bones. Stretch your arms out, open wide, and try to take flight. Leave everything else behind. Feel the crunch of December leaves beneath your Earth-ridden toes, and jump and laugh to yourself.

Do not feel alone.
Because you're not alone.
There is an answer.
Because there is something better.

Do you know where it is?
You should.

Because you are alive.