Rambling notes from a balcony at midnight:

I don¡¦t know why I¡¦ve been feeling so pensive of late ¡V particularly in the wee hours of morning (that I seem to have taken a liking to.).

Part of me doesn¡¦t want next year to start (a sense of denial I suppose most people are going through) and sometimes, I get this mad desire to physically turn back time. You know, if the calendar still reads NOVEMBER in bright red font, then there¡¦s just no way that there are only two weeks left to the year. I suppose there is the excitement of starting a new year, the prospects of going to university¡Kall the usual things people would get excited about. But a part of me just wants things to stay the same.

I¡¦ve been reading a good deal recently, and I¡¦m not too sure why but whenever I read these days, I find myself feeling each word with a newfound clarity and sharpness that wasn¡¦t there before; I don¡¦t know whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. Whenever I come across particularly harrowing passages on death, betrayal or war, I have to stop and steady myself because in my mind¡¦s eye, I can picture the scene, even plan the imaginary cinematography, right down to the little details like the lone survivor¡¦s broken, bleeding lip and slightly charred eyebrows singed in the fire.

My imagination seems to have decided that merely creating things in the dark room of my brain wasn¡¦t enough; it now has to wield a camera and play director too, projecting its images onto the grey matter.

I wonder why. I have never responded to books or writing ¡V however magnificent and moving ¡V in this manner before. It could possibly have something to do with current events. But what? I have about as much of a clue as the next person.

Oh dear. To be a child again¡Krunning around, completely unconscious of the concept of self-consciousness, a bundle of brightly coloured balloons clutched in one grubby little hand, precious little mind occupied with thoughts of ice cream and toys and mummy and daddy as being essential to the daily treacherous trek through unknown objects (Table? Chair? Sharp?) on unsteady legs.

If I only had chairs and tables to deal with; those seemingly insurmountable challenges, then I wouldn¡¦t find myself wondering, in my free time, if I was caught in the middle of a thunderstorm or at the start of a light drizzle, if that was a cloud in the sky, or if I was really standing in the middle of a large field, the sky a bright, bonny blue that shuts people out.

And I wouldn¡¦t have to wrangle with a disappointment that is really all my fault.
But mostly the former.

Goodness; the ramblings that midnight can bring surprise even me.

'...in this space we have worked and paid for we have found ourselves, but lost each other.'

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