So many people don't like to be alone, but I think that's when you really find out who you are. You are limited to conversation with yourself, and you are forced to face yourself. The time is yours to act, think, wonder, experiment, explore, say and grow in whatever direction and way with no outside eyes peering in at you. It's a time for you to make up your own mind without the distraction of what they think. It's a time to delve deeper, to rethink thoughts and to pick at old resolutions. It's a time of discovery. Many people don't allow themselves this time. Perhaps that's why so many people seem like a singular blurry mass. Of course, it's all about balance, everything is about balance. A person needs a period of being immersed in society to balance the time of solitude. For me, when I'm alone the clutter of the constant information thrown at me in social situations slowly clears and my thoughts are able to seep back fully and wholly. When you are alone, there is nothing there to judge you...except for maybe the moon.
She's there, peeking at you. I went to Tybee to watch her rise a couple of days ago. It was too cloudy at first to see, but eventually I was caught off guard by the faint hue of orange seeping through the thick blue grey clouds. It's hard to describe the joy I felt, it's strange how much joy I felt, when I saw it. My hands clenched and I started laughing out loud. It felt good to feel that happy. She's a rock of reassurance and spending time with her rejuvenated and motivated me. I left feeling completely content and satisfied.
While I sat on the beach and looked towards her I noticed that as she got higher, the golden reflections on the ocean intensified. I started trying to describe it to myself and realized that all I could think about were artificial objects to compare it to. It's hard to relate something to an existing thing that someone will recognize, when the thing your trying to describe is like nothing else. But I started to write and this is what I got "I'm looking at the reflection of the full moon on the ocean. It's the color of fire and nothing. They ungulate between each other. They are slithers and clumps gliding and colliding into and out of one another. They move in a slow rhythm that comes towards me. The fire is continuously reaching for me but never arriving. It just keeps coming and never stops but never fully makes it."
it was a good night.