Thursday 2 April 2009

at the bottom of everything.-

Small secluded neighbourhoods tend to be part of a different world. Especially at night, the street becomes quiet and, through the trees, the streetlights reflect on the pavement in a dim yellow glow. We walk out of the house and the dog wanders the block; she barks, but no one is awake to hear the echo of her voice. A cat runs away into a house. I think of what it would be like to live like this. Silence can be reminiscent of solitude, the cold awareness of one's unicity and separation of all other worldly things. The tone of the streetlight's glow feels like company, as a breeze comes and sways the trees. Sometimes it's nice to be completely alone.

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