Still is the night

"Our hearts are leaving our bodies. Our hearts are thirsty black handkerchiefs." - Edward Hirsch

 

I have picked up this new habit to sit at the doorstep practically every night I can find the time to. It always seems to be past midnight, when only seldom cars past by the main road and no cars disturb the street in front of the house. Occasionally, someone will walk past; either I will freak him out for sitting there like a silent ghost or he will freak me out for maybe trying to break in through my wide open door.

It will always be colder outside. Darker too. There used to be bats squeaking in the tree in the park right opposite the house but lately they seem to be quieter. Maybe mating season is over. Or maybe the weather is just too cold to say anything. Oh gawd when I first heard them I was wondering what the fuck is going on outside. On the first night, I thought they were cats and dismissed them felines and tomcats for having their bit of a fun. Then I have to change my idea because these squeaky noises went on for nights consecutively. (Come on, even they have to get tired at some point!) And they sounded more like monkeys than cats now. But on one not so special night, I saw little Batmans flying around so yeah, there is your answer.

Despite being cold, having malicious creatures nearby and potential front door burglars, I will still sit at the steps outside with my hands folded under my knees. I will need to abandon my chat mates (You guys know who you are) for a little while to tend to this me time. But my favourite songs will still blast from my laptop's crappy speakers. Songs: the usual slow and languid ones going well with the surrounding I am in.

Some nights I can count stars if I happen to look up. Nah. I do not count them. I never do. What is the point anyway. I will not finish and I will not gain anything if ever I happen to finish. (If you count stars, what are you thinking?!) I can always spot the Orion's Belt. Just because I do not know what the other fuckers are called. But on other nights I will not see them if it is cloudy. It is cloudy quite often here. Winter is, after all, coming soon.

I think about random things. Mostly of a place and time and people I left behind to come here. Some will make me want to cry. Some will make me smile. But. Mostly my mind is just blank, my body enjoying the music soothing to the ears. If they are lucky enough they will stick and be the Morning Song of the Day. But some are not that lucky. Yet not quite. For I play my favourite songs again and again too many times.

I can sit outside the night away if I can.