There was a sunrise this morning, but no skyscrapers. The start of the day was still obscured from my view though; living on top of a hill has its perks, but not all of the time. There was also a man sitting in his car this morning, face illuminated from below by the blue expelled from the face of his oversized phone. Instead of my usual oasis, there was a woman next to me on the normally quiet bus. She sat heavily, reeking of stale alcohol. I hoped that she had just finished the night shift, but here where the streets are empty and my head is full and I can’t find the words to explain what is around me. She might be on some phantom schedule or her own, circadian rhythms not matching the rest of this city’s.
The burning sky over to my right reminds me which direction is the east; I’m backwards, here, but not lost. Home is my own unit but yesterday, surrounded by thick and feathery clouds and piercing blue sky, I went downtown and the skyscrapers that cut into it felt more familiar than the blue infinite expanse, above and never to be seen from a position than this planet. My heart cracks a little when I think that this is the only world I will know, but it also beats more heavily knowing that the time here, grounded, looking up at the red and orange and blue sky is precious. “Such a long long time to be gone
and a short time to be there.”
Yet I broke free once and for all and for the first time in my life I don’t feel the urge to escape again. Straddling the dark and the light, from the place still enshrouded in night, to the bright sunrise I am between the two for a mere second. There is balance and then it is gone – impermanent and limitless, experienced and lost