I Am a Night Owl

There's just something so... real and grounding about it. Like the world has run itself dry and had to take a break. Like the day is music that keeps escalating, building up and echoing in your head until it abruptly stops, leaving you with nothing but a silent, fading echo of it in the distance.

When I was younger, I lived in a big house north to nowhere. No neighbors, except for the wildlife in the forest we lived by. I would go out during midnight and just walk. There were no cars around, no town, no lights except for the moon, stars and at times, my flashlight. It always felt like at day, I was trapped in a bubble of what I could see, but at night, the world was open and endless. More honest. I never cried during the day, but with the night sky I'd share my tears whenever something was bothering me enough that I felt like that was the only appropriate way to act.

Moving into a bigger city, my opinion of the night hasn't changed much. Night in the city is wilder; more alive, like an evergreen tree versus a Christmas tree. Just a lack of start and a lot of glitter and light, really. There'd be places where the constant buzz of the day would continue on throughout the night, but it was more comfortable, knowing that the minute you'd step out, it would fade into nothing but silent thrumming flowing through the cracks of the closed exit.

I also always seem to be more creative at night. Sometimes, I like to imagine it's because I should be dreaming.