With the Space of the Sky Inside

I am cold. I wanna be warm.

I miss summer nights when I feel like this and I can just go and sit outside-- and it's warm, and there's lots of air and wind and silence, and it feels like there exists enough space for all of the feelings and thoughts. They have the space to lose themselves in.

I can feel connected with something because I'm alive in the light of time shining from the stars, watching hundreds of millions of years of history and living in this moment. These feelings can stretch themselves out, twining round and round the strands of time flowing from stars which may no longer exist. They have their place in the history of things. There's more space to dream.

One or two in the morning, when everything and everyone else is in another world.

Mmmm, boy does that feel good-- those thoughts.

I want people to connect with, too-- people who have those same thoughts. People who have that depth and space and wonder of the warm night sky inside them. Without the existence of waking people to clutter it up.

People who just have that big black star-studded silence inside their hearts and heads-- that darkness of the soul that is so absorbing and otherworldly, like the openness in the eternal hour between one and two in the morning.

Perhaps I feel better a bit now, like I've got a sky to empty into; space to fill. Thank you.

Still-- the weird sadness, but somehow less.