The Slowing of Night

"I don't mind. its just that we're so far from each other..."

Kind of like how the sun is far from the earth...I wanted to text back. but I didn't. That text message I received has no deep meaning. It was a simple text. With no profound emotion behind it; about the distance from here to Long Island, written by a friend. But after spending a good portion of my night staring at the wall...It made me think about two things that I can't control. Time...and distance. Hell, there is so much I can't control naming them would be pointless....But Something I've always understood to be out of my control, even when I was a child, was time and distance. My father used to go away for a weekend or so once a year. Back then you could walk with your loved ones to the boarding area. Back before the fuss surrounding inadequate security. I remember staring out the window. at the big plane my father would take off in. He'd give me hugs and kisses and I'd watch him take off into the distance...for what seemed like forever. And of course, I would cry. At that age, I had never flown in a plane before. And I was still trying to really understand the concept that it could be 12pm here...at 9am in California. But all of it, seemed so out of my control. I always had a problem with the unknown, the unexplained, and the inability to make sense of whats not tangible; whats not physical. So I write all this to say....that time and distance...scares me.

I can't explain the emptying feeling that balls up inside me at the thought of the two in conjunction. Its probably because time and distance equals change. And change is hard for me. For a long time now, I've been trying to change some things, without destroying my little universe; which is proving impossible. It produces a feeling that I can only explain as...a burning or being engulfed by fire. Like, almost catching aflame without warning. the ultimate example of lack of control. Not to be dramatic...but that's the best way to explain it. Sometimes I feel like my insides are about to burst into flames and I become panicked. Me, because I think too much, spontaneously combusting because of it. Completely disappearing without a trace where I stood.

Without a trace...saying that reminds me of a 'dinner time' conversation we had. Sometimes we talk about some really heavy stuff. The child I nanny for is getting older, and his mother tries the best she can to answer his questions. He asked about atomic bombs, Hiroshima, and how it all worked. As she explained it I imagined everyday people going about their normal day. Mundane tasks, light laughter. And not so much a blast of destruction, but a wave of release. That made them disappear  in a blink of an eye. A beautifully...unnecessary...loss of life. A devastation. A wipe out. Physically speaking anyways. She continued to to try and explain the difference between a bomb, that explodes, that combusts, and how an atomic bomb unlaces, creating energy, and becomes unstable. Falls apart.

She went on to explain hydrogen bombs as well, using her fingers as an example, interlocking them to show the bonds, and peeling them back to show them dissolving...quite like the flesh of the people in my imagination....And it all just dulled me...made me placid. Maybe that's how I really feel...like an atomic bomb....so much energy inside me.... even though i may seem so empty...slowly unlacing...and causing destruction, whatever destruction may mean in that sense (expression?). what I wouldn't give to be that weak undeserving creature who could never in their dreams survive such a molecular assault from me, the human atomic bomb. Just dissolve into nothing. Just ...released. No, not physically, but mentally. Pretty much what I'm saying is...I don't want to bubble up inside like an atomic bomb, or be empty like I am at night. I don't want to explode either. I don't need the mess that will follow after it...I just want to...stop thinking the way I do. In ways that keep me up when I should be sleeping. or trouble me while I'm sitting alone on a train. Because in the end, I do live by the hands of the clock...and its distance from one number to the next is almost like the distance from the sun to the earth....for everyone but me. I just don't have the time for this....

I had a dream...and the sun pretty much was mocking me. Burning like it does.... When I woke up the sun was still down; only slivers of light made it into the sky at 4 am. I didn't say it out loud...but I did wonder..."When will I really... wake up?"