"What do you remember if at all
Only pieces of the night...
Is it any wonder in the middle of the crowd
If you let your feet get trampled on
When the music is that loud
But you wanted to be where you are"
~Gin Blossoms, Pieces of the Night
I am not someone who will say that I knew who I was or what I wanted when I was younger, but I knew what the night brought. At night there is a sense of intimacy that comes into play. Some feeling so amazing that it is indescribable. If I were doing nothing but staring at the wall, there would still be that sense of security the night gives. I feel that I am loved, and sadly, the day is different. In the light my faults are more readily in view, the music is never loud enough, and the day just isn't enough. Nothing is ever enough, except at night. The air is cold, and crisp, the stars comfort. I look up into the vast sky, and am given that feeling of perfection. The feeling that I am better, for some reason, and that I am enough.
At night, when I was young, I would shut the door, to my room, to block out the sounds of everything I couldn't stand, so that I could sleep. Usually I wouldn't go right to sleep. I would stay up an extra hour, just so I could feel the night. Everything and nothing came together in supreme unity to create this force that would block out my thoughts so degrading to what life truly was, is. I would lie on my bed and think, or cry, or both. It's funny how so much of life changes, and yet something's never change.
I know that I will never be what my parents want. I will never be the daughter that was good enough. In their eyes I am, and will always be, less then my siblings, no matter the wrongs they commit. School, and all of the work that goes along with it, is depressing. But all of this slips away when the sun goes down. I can crawl into the closet that I have become so accustomed to and be myself, even if I'm the only one around.
If I could live only in the night, I would. If I could be as free with myself during the day as I am during the night, I would. Maybe I'd be too free, too loud, too offensive. But is there really such a thing as too much? If I lived completely in the night. If I had pieces of the life I used to live, by night, I could forget the pain that the light of day brings; the way that all of the world interacts, converses, and finds fault. But wouldn't society always find fault, as it does now?
As we grow older, as a world wide community, we should accept our differences, not because we didn't choose them or because we don't want them, but more because we are killing ourselves. Slowly, we are wasting away our world with the hope that it will all get better over time. My wishes are contradictory. The night takes away the pain, and so I wish for it. But I wish, and hope, that others will see what we are doing to ourselves and decide to stop it, instead of running from it, as I do.
If it weren't for my family, my friends, this society, my personal oppression, how badly would I need the night?
Josephine (me) is a 16 year old, bisexual, high school junior living in western Washington. I am an obsessive, honest, blunt, and at times crazy, chick who enjoys chaos, and anything that seems a challenge. Reading, writing, music and feedback are all good stuff so e-mail me at EmbezzledEmotion@aol.com.