Wine in the Tub

So what’s my sweet spot?

Where’s my happy place?

It’s is in the moonlight.

In the candle light.

The rose of dusk, and the shadows that follow.

The blood red of wine.

A silence all my own.

Stolen moments, late at night, under the moonlight.

My Wandering Mind

Can’t sleep.

Every night, as I wait to fall asleep, my mind is filled with memories. All the fragments, pieces strung together that make up a life. The many past lives of my life.

Without to do lists, the urgency of remembering daily tasks, things I would repeat over and over so as to not forget, my mind is free to wander. For some reason, I’m sure a very particular reason, a call to continue on with the ‘doing of the work’, my mind keeps reaching for my memories.

Everything in my memory bank seems to be organized into very neat compartments. A year here, or there, with that person or the other. The time I lived in that apartment, and then several others. A decade, a few years within, time spent in a particular place. Each capsule filled with so many faces, so many events. A feeling which defines it, a soundtrack, a menu.

As this is becoming a regular occurrence, every night a different place in time, every place in time feeling like a lifetime ago, and a life of its own, there is some strange worry setting in. Have I lived so much already?

And there is a disconnect, the life I’m living now, the person that I am, neither is connected in any way to these past lives. Perhaps because they were all lived in one place?

Isn’t it strange, to think I spent almost 30 years in one place, the same buildings and streets, and faces. And the faces I know now, I never knew before. Everything I see and experience now, I have never seen or known before.

Midnight Writings

Welcome to Midnight Writings!

Awhile back, I started another blog, Pursuit of My Truth. There, I wrote longwinded, emotional, streams of consciousness, as I worked through some heartbreak and emotional trauma.

That seems like a lifetime ago! Now here I am building a new life, in a new city. My writing is no longer the same, so I thought it was time for a new space, somewhere that allows for a new style.

I’m not sure how to execute, or what exactly it is that I want to say. I’m used to writing from a place of sadness or pain, using writing as a tool for healing. Drawing on the passion that comes from those deep emotions.

What hasn’t changed, is that urge, that need for a creative outlet. The need to write, the love of writing. That beautiful moment of pen to paper, or like Carrie Bradshaw and her laptop, the relationship of thoughts and feelings translated.

So here you will find casual reflections, ideas that keep me up at night, maybe even some sort of poetry (for lack of any other classification). In a time, where everyone on the internet is trying to accomplish something, influence, or earn, here I am just writing for the pleasure of writing.