It's 12:02AM and I ran away from home tonight.

I ran across the stars and back to the moon where I watched the sun rise on the other side of the earth and it didn't make my eyes burn. I laid at the edge of galaxies and pondered what it means to be alive. I watched the universe fall and spin in chaotic beauty and became aware that I'd never been aware of it before.

It's 12:05AM and I just got home from a very long rehearsal and I should be doing homework or sleeping but instead I'm learning what it means to be alive. I'm trying to distinguish the difference between existing and living but it's a grey that flares into colors and doesn't make sense in my head.


It's 12:10AM and I'm thinking of your soul. How alive you are and how alive you make me feel, even if it is only second-hand. Even if it is only permanently temporary. I'm trying to learn from you and feel like you do because even if it's dark, at least there is color in it.

It's 12:14AM and I'm running running running
                                                                     running
                                                                                 running
                                                                                             r
                                                                                               u
                                                                                                  n
                                                                                                     n
                                                                                                        i
                                                                                                          n
                                                                                                             g
to you.


It's 12:42AM and I don't think I'm any closer to knowing how to be alive than I was before, but I know that this is the most concrete thing I've felt in a while. Being alive hurts like hell a lot of the time, but it's worth it for that light, full feeling you get in your heart sometimes. It's caring more about people than your grades sometimes. It's caring not about the time of day, only about finding the right words to express yourself with sometimes.

I know that it can't be defined because there are a lot of 'sometimes' and almost never an 'all the time' because living has always been inconstant.

All I hear is my heart

Dim but fast

Like footsteps

Fleeing into silence

Silhouettes speak

Noises sharpen

Into monsters

Darkness suffocates

And crawls

Like small spiders

The blankets offer

Little comfort

Against

My nightmares

--

The plague of our minds is the darkness that we can't find our way through. We are lost and blind and confused in the tangles of those dark recesses of our own thoughts. The part of our head and our imagination that we ignore. The part that only lives in our dreams. What we are and what we know is malleable in the subconscious of every human, for in our dreams the laws of everything become ours to manipulate and in the face of such power Mr. Hyde loves to take over.

Sweet dreams.