i hate the time between 230pm and 600pm. the ominous, fading light of the day so closely resembles my attitudes. my growing descent into cynicism once more, as my optimism and progressive spirit dissipates. its not the night i fear, or the midday vibrancy. no. its is this time, where i become aware of the transition, and feel that it will inevitably lead to shadows and dark streets. these are the moments where i am not so sure why this transition is occurring, yet it is rooted in some natural phenomena.
the notion that time, in itself, does not exist as we perceive it, gives me an almost transcendental hope. the cycle of my perception of the world can be comforting. just as the day melts into the night, so does it birth the morning. my fear of transition within the cycle proves to be an irrational one.
and this actual night, as it approaches, may indeed hold peace as well as beautiful connection.