it is night

and the music comes out of my brother's room in waves lapping then crashing then lapping again...the light over my head is in mimicry of the sun and somewhere i want to believe there is a bird calling dawn. but it is not so. it is night and i am not maria wanting the sun to set but the opposite, wanting it to maybe start all over again or at least be the next - no more waiting.

this is what night class does to me, brings me down and then brings me up when i'm home i'm on uppers cause it should be the afternoon or dinner time not sleep time as i'm not ready, my brain isn't ready to stop running now that it has just begun. and the music. it is the beat of my thoughts, the pulse in my neck after out of breath running.

and it is not that i dislike it here. it is bright despite the night and there are pillows and blankets and socks to keep my feet warm. there are words i can dive into and paint i can put on like makeup if i want to be creative. i can write here until the words go to sleep. and i agree with whomever said that everything has a beat - a heartbeat even if inanimate. i can feel it, in my fingers and in my toes and i am waiting for it to dance all over me - the running pulse.