Okay, granted it’s not midnight yet as I’m writing this, it’s actually currently 7 minutes to BUT the sentiment is the same. Many nights I find myself awake staring at my laptop screen and killing time, too awake to sleep and too tired to do anything huge. That midnight madness where my mind decides it’s going to stumble into an odd parade of thoughts and feelings. I’m sure I’m not the only one. I can both love and hate these moments, but generally speaking I am glad they exist.
Let me expand a little more, once I’ve gotten into bed, and I’m laying with a book or my laptop, reading or watching videos I get constantly distracted. By what? Anything. Any thoughts my brain decides to pick up on, where my 21 year old self considers the past and the future with even a consideration to the present. Some days it’s completely positive, and I beam with pride and excitement to my previous achievements and my hopeful future ones. Other days it’s solely negative, and I fall into a deep sadness, as some of the oldest aspects of my life still resonate, or simple moments of my present life become larger and more significant. But mainly it is an unorganised and messy collaboration of all of these things plus something else that doesn’t really ever make any sense, or can be categorised as anything.
I start thinking about being 21 or whatever age I am at the time and I think of what I’ve done, what I’m doing and what I will do. I think of what the age means, what it should mean and what it could mean and then I get lost in the numbers themselves. They become unfamiliar and odd, and my mind starts questioning numbers, as if the life long established number system is just wrong.Then the numbers become memories, the 1 and the 8 that make 18 and the birthday that came with that age, the sudden realisation I was a sort of adult, the trepidation thinking of university. I think about the innocence of being a child, and how sometimes I wish I could be younger, and play in the nursery, and cry and scream and break things and not be looked at in a strange way, for it all to be natural. I go through a list of all the ages I’ve turned that we see as ‘significant’ in one way or another, and I think about what each meant to me.
I stare out of my window, and think about the darkness of night, and how wonderful it could be, to be totally alone, sitting with nothing but the stars and moonlight for company. But then I think of how scared I may get, how broken I may eventually feel, after the novelty of a spiritual connection wears off, and I realise I cannot sufficiently survive with that alone. I need deep conversations with someone, whether they disagree or wholeheartedly agree. I hunger for stupid and pointless chatter, that feels like it never ends, and yet feels as if it is warming your heart more than anything possibly could.
It is just those times where you admit it’s midnight, and my mind is awake and you can do nothing but fall into it’s path.
And that’s fine.
When you feel it, if you are not tired, if you get that pull from whatever force it is, fall into it. Let the conversations flow from your mind. In all the insanity and craziness that it creates, the memories you remember, there is always an ethereal moment of both clarity and obscurity that reveals a previously closed perspective. And it is true that sometimes, these thoughts and irreplaceable moments can only happen when the clock strikes twelve, and when you are stuck in limbo between sleep and active consciousness. It is the same feeling that comes from the silly trips you took with your friends that night when you really shouldn’t have. The intense moment at the end of school when everything piles on you and you begin to understand what’s to come and what the last years have meant to you and your whole life. These are essential and truthfully inescapable moments. But some people do try to avoid them, and I get it, i totally do, I do it myself when I’m scared to approach it. It is not all bad though, and sometimes it has to happen to set you on the course you have been held back from.
It’s Midnight and Your Mind Is Awake… and that is a powerful thing.
p.s. I’m really trying to again to write more consistently, but this time not being afraid to upload both poems, and other things, and more shorter pieces like these where it is truthfully like a journal. This is what this blog was always created for, to help others and to express what I couldn’t otherwise, and this is what it will become again. Let me know what you think.