I’m a romantic. I love walking the streets after nightfall alone, wandering in and out of illuminated convenience stores, haunting them, hitting on the cashier while I buy dark chocolate. I love going the cinema by myself and giving underrated films a chance. Admittedly I am often disappointed, but it is all worth it for that single one that mesmerizes my persona, leaving me lying awake in my bed thinking.
I hate the streets during the day. The sun reflects off the dirty concrete sidewalk into my face so that I am perpetually cringing, even through my sunglasses. I walk around with my grimace as I sweat, dreading each step closer to the next errand on my list. As a byproduct of my impaired vision I often bump into unassuming civilians, to whom I pitifully murmur an obligatory apology under my breath as I continue on to the next Kinkos, CVS, Safeway, slowly checking off the items my list. I am constantly exciting degenerates because I have a bad habit of staring at them, unsure of what their dark mass is in the blinding daylight until they start asking me for spare change.
At night I come alive. The house looks cleaner. The only inclination one has of the barf on the sidewalk is the smell, because at night you can’t even see it.
I love watching Flotrack videos and sizing up my competition at night. I love looking at gifs on Reddit and checking my Facebook for hours unabashedly once the sun goes down. I love running at night, chasing cars and girls, screaming at people at night hidden by a visage of darkness. I think Portlandia and everything else on Netflix becomes about a million times better at night. I do core exercises, I eat cereal and watch South Park re-runs, write, dream, and lay out my clothes for the morning at night.
I drink tea at night and read books that I wouldn’t give the time of day during…well…the day. I go to class at night, because that’s the only time I schedule the ones I like. I stay up late and tinker with projects in the kitchen alone, listening to Finally Famous and drinking coffee late at night. I drink decaffeinated coffee at night.
The ugliest apartment becomes a bohemian collection of beautiful golden squares in the dark, a jack-o-lantern. I only compare buildings to pumpkins at night.
At night I dress up and go out, talking to strangers and treating myself to ice cream. I get vanilla soft serve and ask for the toppings on the side because I think it’s a better deal. At night, I go for hikes and plan where on the mountain I’ll camp during the weekend, then I do it again next week without ever camping. I only enjoy driving at night, and I exult the engineers that designed the glowing lights on my compact disc dashboard and speedometer. I have decided that these are great people.
I fart on the couch and brush my teeth at night. After much hesitation I always floss because I know it makes you live longer. After washing my face, I charge my laptop, iPod, Game Boy, camera and electric toothbrush and drink a glass of water at night. I do 10 pull-ups and peal off my socks, followed by my shirt, pants, and underwear (in that order) and then admire my thin frame and good looks in my full length mirror at night. I smile and send a text that I know I’ll regret in the morning. I turn off the light, pull up my covers, scratch my balls and turn over onto my left side at night.
I sleep at night.
naturesalute 