I cradle my little flame close to my breast,
how bright it seems now in the shadow I cast,
as I bathe in the light of torch-bearers past,
cheering me on as I kindle at last,
a candle to add to humanities sun,
a hard-earned yet simple-struck spark born from some understanding
built slowly in earnest and jest,
now flickering gently, a warmth in my chest.
The crux of the matter
It's been a while, and memory is treacherous, but as best as I can recall...
I wanted to convey a strange ambivalence; wonder, fear, insignificance, everything that I was grapling with, the reason I needed an outlet like this.
But it's hard to cram an existential crisis into a username, so I settled on bittersweet to try and convey a slow, melancholy comfort, rather than a cold, leeching emptiness.
And crux, because it was the source of the ambivalence, the point where the sweeping crush of matter accretes into my physical form before it sloughs off into the universe again.
Again, this is the sort of thing I wanted to express, but I wanted the words to come from the dark behind my eyes, not filtered through any existing entity I had been.
Its been a long time since I created this username.
In the time since, I found a name I liked. I unified my abstract, scattered presence under it. I can read it, hear it or associate it with myself without flinching.
But lately, I've been spending a lot more time alone in the dark behind my eyes.
And so I find myself here, searching for melancholy comfort amidst the sapping cold.
"Wouldn't have thought to find myself here".
I look up from the railing, a wry smile teasing the corners of my mouth as I approach.
"Har har. Enjoy it while it lasts", I produce a crushed croissant from the bulging plastic bag at my feet and proffer it. I take the pastry and join myself in leaning against the wrought iron, the upturned beaks below turn expectantly.
I settle into a companionable silence, punctuated by the frantic honks and splashes that greet each of my stale offerings.
The bag of bakery seconds slowly empties, my shadows stretch over the canal to the lawns beyond. I play shadow puppets on the last few sunbathers.
"This was nice", I think to myself.
"I agree", I say aloud.
"See you again soon?".
I smile.
"You know where I live".
The park fades.
The sunbathers, the swans, the lawns, the wrought iron railing...
I open my eyes, I'm alone in my room again.
Well, nearly alone.