Feeling The Place

It just struck me over an msn conversation with a friend that I have been feeling the place each day as I awake. Connecting and being acutely aware of the surroundings. Sensitive it may seems, but it does bring lots of pain. Happiness and quietness are hardly in the air. It's just this mad rush, this hostile silence, this suffocating presence.

Nights are the best. As the world comes to a halt, the lights dim, the traffic slows, peace slips in. As I sit before the computer each night quietly tapping away, I delve into the deepest depths of my beings. Aware. Raw. The pen has been my comfort of late. Words carry my sorrow.

And as you enter into the depths of night, you are softly send to sleep by the cradle of the night. This quiet cold that comforts. You snuggle under the quilt, this thin layer that keeps you from the pain of the world. Yet it is no panacea for the pain within you. It burns furiously and you are left screaming for mercy.