Rain falls outside. Like it has before. And how it will again.
It is late. The only light when I turn off my lamp is from the streetlights haze outside. I like the nighttime. You can hide away. In the shadows. Turn off the lights and disappear. In the light of day, you are an object that can’t be hidden. A voice with a face, a heart with a name, a body with a purpose.
At night. The voice is in your head locked away in the darkness. Your heart hammers and yet it is calm. Your body is just your mind’s life source. There’s no hiding from yourself. The light is out.
I can lay here and listen to the rain in the dark and feel totally alone. It’s okay to feel alone at night. The world is asleep. You can run free without anyone being bothered by you and you by them. Thoughts clash loudly and an awful racket is made. Its deafening noise is silent in the night. No one hears it but me.
When the rain stops, my breath catches. It’s comforting to hear the drops upon the roof tiles, the splashes on the leaves. When the rain stops, only I am left. Only me and my thoughts.
I don’t like it. I need a distraction. A noise. A light to follow. Just with my eyes. Or ears. The darkness offers a glimpse into my forbidden thoughts of self doubt and distress. But the distraction, every so often, stops me from falling down the well. The well that has no bottom. And no light.
I like the darkness because at its most impenetrable it’s already turning to day. It offers a step back from the wells edge. I like the dark because it has the ability to transform. And someday it’ll teach me how to transform. Like the rain it brings new beginnings.
And so in the dark I listen to the rain.
Photo by Dave Watson
Please check out his work on https://www.instagram.com/davewatson_uk/ or at https://davewatson1980.picfair.com /
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