Tranquility

underwater-city-14279-2560x1600                                                                                                                                                                                                  Such a beautiful word. Tranquility, serenity, imperturbability, placidity, all words to describe what mood I’ve been in the last couple of months. Meaning, many things have happened to have inspired such numbing qualities. I’ve moved around a lot within the confines of one crappy city and seem to start to enjoy it; my sister and her husband is getting a divorce and she being on her own like that gives me the creeps; my father married another witch slightly, just slightly less bitchy than the first one; got a new job; actually getting closer on deciding to study what I like even though commitment in that regard still maintains the imbalance in my life. Maybe I’m afraid of commitment, maybe I am just afraid of committing to one thing and losing that to practice upon change – as good as a holiday, right? Maybe I will never find any roots, settle down, which is all fine and dandy with me, adding to that the tranquil consequence to deciding, for once, on doing just what the hell I want, when I want, how I want. I am a wanderer. I like to move to new places all the time. I like to meet new people all the time, though I don’t want anything to do with them afterwards. I am a lousy friend and there is no denial there. Absorbed into my own mind, as it is. I live for going to work on my bicycle, listening to all kinds of songs on my headphones while I shape my upper thighs, going to the gym every day just before work, going home after work to a wonderful, COLD dinner, writing, watching movies, going to sleep and waking up the next morning, doing the dishes with my headphones on, going to gym and so forth and so forth, completing the circle. My life is full, even if not meaningful. I like what I do and I do what I like, as the saying goes. Being in that perfect circle gives me that coherency to being in control, being safe, being rational if irrational to others within that confine, giving me the power to alter anything if not everything I want. Bending the rules a bit. And I love it.

Days are tranquil as well. Some own sunny clear skies whilst others crawls with pregnant, thundering clouds. Tranquil, all the same. It depends on how you look at it, how you set your mind to interpret what you see. There was this one night I went home from work, raining like there was no end, and I got soaked, naturally, to the bone. I felt so invigorated, so alive. Energy poured in my ligaments and I soared. That is why I wish for rainy nights, every night. There is something in the rain and the black of night that makes me who I am. Rain during daytime, just the same. Maybe it adds to the carefree thing I have going on. Maybe it adds to nothing and just widens my horizons. Either way, it never ceased to affect me in many wondrous ways. The trees actually glistens as much as the blacktop does. Shadows becomes elongated patches of night that seeps through the layer between sky and earth, only to add to the surrounding surfaces. Approaching cars’ headlights catches the fat drops of rain and makes it sparkle in front of my eyes, transforms it into diamonds as it falls from the heavens. The streets sometimes turns into a river, deep and perpetual through which I glide my bike. Actually being the only one that time of night in the middle of a storm with flashes of lightning that guides my way like a subordinate, it feels like I own that path within that motion, feels like I am the only one still living. That night I got home, sodden, and I decided to jump into the swimming pool, clothes and all. Normally I hesitate when I stand on the edge of the pool, contemplating whether I should just jump in, make a bomb or climb into the pool via inserted steps, but that night I dove in like some force compelled me to do the unthinkable, pushed me from behind. The water was warm. The sound the rain made on the water surface was a special tranquil sound, a sound that floated in my head like the rush of a thousand butterflies’ wings. If not for sound and touch, it would have felt like being in a sensory deprivation chamber, alone with your thoughts, disconnected from the world and everything on it. Not that I know what it feels like, but Dean Koontz explained it to me quite beautifully.

I do hope to catch another rainy night by surprise and accompany its extended girth across the universe to where all senses tears loose, where I become nothing yet stays something. 🙂

That is all…..

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One thought on “Tranquility

  1. No earthly idea why I can’t “like” your post – and such a beautiful one is was too!!!
    I’ve never been caught in the rain without a roof or a car over me, but I can imagine how invigorating it must have been. After the grumbling about getting wet, being wet, and enjoying the freedom that comes with that…
    You should really write more often young man…

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