The sky is deep, the sky is dark.
The light of the stars is so damn stark.
When I look up, I fill with fear.
If all we have is what lies here,
This lonely world, this troubled place,
Then cold dead stars and empty space…
Well, I see no reason to persevere,
No reason to laugh or shed a tear,
No reason to sleep or ever to wake,
No promises to keep, and none to make.
And so at night I still raise my eyes
To study the clear but mysterious skies
That arch above us, as cold as stone.
Are you there, God? Are we alone?
~ The book of counted sorrows
Header image: chizue
Last night I was half sitting in bed my head propped up with two large pillows looking out the bay window watching the empty streets devoid of any celebration waiting for the exact hour I could swallow my cherry gumballs (6 hours in between said the doctor as if I don’t know the rules) thinking: here comes another year. Yesterday the neighbour across the street turned off their Christmas lights and took them inside, maybe they cannot wait for the year to end or perhaps they already received their electric bill; I don’t know…
After a time I heard fireworks accompanied by shouting and some other noises I did not care to decipher for my head ached like crazy. It went on for about five minutes. When I thought it was over, suddenly it started all over again. I saw the next door neighbour came out and stood on the middle of the street hands on the hips trying to see where the commotion was coming from and I thought good luck for even from my elevated position, I could hear the noises but I couldn’t even glimpse one single spark of any fireworks.
I wanted to knock on the window and wave but I saw that he was not in a good mood. I can envision him writing a letter to the mayor’s office first thing in the morning complaining about the incident. He always writes to the mayor everything he’s not happy about concerning our neighbourhood. From inside their house I could hear Ricky the dog barking like his life depends on it and I thought: that’s why; the dog probably woke him up.
Watching him walking to and fro obviously irritated because Ricky’s Cousin Jimmy who lives across the street decided to join in with the howling and I remember thinking to myself: this guy needs to be transported to my country of origin around this time of the year so he can have a proper lesson about how to celebrate New Year in style. But I’m almost sure he will likely to have a heart attack if ever.
If these noises which are not even close to practice when it comes to the real thing bothers him already…
The merry making ceased as suddenly as it started, the street gone ghostly quiet again, the neighbour stepped inside and locked the door; there goes another year and everything that had happened within its realm, gone, never to be seen again. I don’t know if it was because I was (and still is) sick and my head hurt(s) or I’m becoming a sentimental fool but I found myself crying dry tears…