Musings

I walk outside into the cold, black air. Tonight is one of those nights where the darkness is particularly thick. The stale fluorescent light from the streetlamps and the cold light of the moon collapse in on themselves. I step into the sphere of one of the lamps, and the light floods jarringly through my eyes. It is as if I am in a dream, in a daze; I must focus hard to remind myself where to step and where to go. I am like the moth, mesmerized by a candle, about to get burned. And oddly enough, though I did not enjoy the light, once I step out I do not enjoy the dark anymore either. Where do I belong, if neither the light nor the dark is for me?