Thoughts at midnight

Have you ever breathed into the night? Or let the night breathe into you?

The above two lines may seem the same but mind you, are entirely different.

When you breathe into the night, they don’t seem dark anymore. They are beautiful, as beautiful as drinking semi warm coffee sitting on your balcony with Sufjan Stevens singing loudly from your phone, sounding angelic with rain as the background singer. You see the trees dance and for a moment forget the dreary day. You look towards those silhouettes swaying in the distance to your rhythm and let your lips push your cheek upwards. You let your eyes wash them not in despair but in some sort of unsaid content. You live more, every passing second, taking two breaths in one.

But when you let the night breathe into you, they seem infinite and empty. You feel empty. At that point, you just wish for the darkness to envelope you as you wrap the moonless night sky as a blanket and cry till your pillows can’t soak up your tears. You want to live in this. Be this. But somewhere deep inside you cry out for help. You scream at the top of your voice for the dawn to knock at your door. And this goes over and over again. The next morning you pretend nothing is wrong.

But in either case. Nights are your best friend. They let you, be. They don’t laugh at you for being childish to dance in your balcony to Usher, they don’t judge you for you letting your pain come out like a flood, drowning your senses. They are there for you, smiling at you when you are happy and holding you when you can’t be. They are there to behold you unleash whatever side you have been hiding from the world, from the day. So that you can be yourself, for yourself.


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