A Night.

Complete rambling.

      He sat down to write at an hour that was more commonly reserved for activities that were somewhat less than legal and stared at the screen for the duration of the first three tracks on his copy of "Rubber Soul". He wanted to write but there wasn't anything forthcoming so he waited, knowing that sooner or later something must come. At least, it always had before. The Beatles music didn't really fit his mood, but for one reason or another it seemed right as he waited for the words to come while answering the occasional instant message as it came in from thousands of miles away.

     Reaching down into the fridge, he pulled out the half-bottle of pop that was left over from the afternoon. It was flat, but the caffeine was what he really wanted, so he ignored the lack of carbonation. The cold of the beverage felt good and the mild temperature shock to his system brought him back a bit from the edge of sleep.

     Sleep. His body was screaming for it but his mind did not want it just yet. Looking up at his bookshelf, he stopped to ponder just why he wasn't enthusiastic about the prospect of sleeping. There was no good reason forthcoming as to why he shouldn't just pack it all up for the night and enjoy death's counterfeit. Perhaps if he were to look back on the day?

     The first memory of the day was a cloudy image of the alarm clock reading 10:30, but the memory doesn't last and the memory immediately following is of rolling out of bed more than an hour and a half later. 12:15 was a late start even for him. Granted, he had been up until almost three the previous night, but that wasn't an alltogether unusual occurance and it certainly wasn't enough to explain his late start. He decided that it must be the cumulative drain of his late-night habits and the three exams he'd had on Tuesday. Even with that considered though, he didn't think that he ought to have been so tired.

     His mind snapped out of the recollection and refused to continue looking over the day. There really wasn't much that had happened anyway. He'd gone to his only class, sat there and obediently took notes, and left. Outside of that and some calls he'd made for very mundane reasons nothing had happened. Whatever the reason was for the recent strangeness, it wasn't going to be found within one of the day's events.

     His mind was gone and he knew it. There wasn't anything left, the day's capacity for traditional thought was gone and he found it hard to maintain concentration. Still, he was not ready for sleep.

     "She's on the other side of the country," he thought to himself. "You've never once met her and yet she's as close as any friend you've ever had. Closer than most, actually," his inner voice continued. His relationship with her was an odd one, even he wasn't sure how it had started. She could read him very well, though she insisted that even though she was "in his head", she did not "move the furniture around". This was still bothersome to him at times, though he was beginning to learn trust. She was perhaps the best sounding board though; he was perpetually amazed at how well she could listen and distill thoughts.

     Tonight's discussion with her had covered a topic that seemed to come up often with him: his future with regard to a Companion. He turned and sighed as he looked out the window. How had he ever thought that he would find a Companion? He knew that he would have close friends, but he just couldn't conceive of himself with a Companion for all times. He knew that he simply was not capable of allowing himself do dissolve into another person as a Companion would require. Whenever he visualised having a woman in his life, he saw himself turning his back and walking away in the end. Not running away, mind you. No, there was never any joy in his visions of leaving. Just a resigned and slightly defeated walk. A slamming car door, a revving engine, screaming tires and a "swearing off" of Companionship for a time until the longing would come again.

     The longing. He was familiar with that already. But that would have to wait. Sleep was finally winning the battle. He was shutting down. All that was left to do was to wonder how this would all look to him come the morning.

Back to Miscellaneous Ramblings Page

Back to Main Page

This page created the right way: On IBM Works for OS/2 Warp 3.

Last Updated: October 13, 2000