Moon Letters

Well, this proves that I’m still gluten intolerant. . . Oh well.

I still feel most alive during the night. I like knowing that I could leave this place and not get swarmed by people and noise. Solitude is something I thrive in. For me, writing is not a struggle with silence, but rather a devotion with it.

Lately, this city seems to be closing in on me. It’s hard to find places around here where one can just be alone and breathe the air in peace. My Masi rode bike is my best friend right now (well, besides my acoustic guitar and my journal). I’ve been riding it all over in hopes of discovering such places. Though I haven’t had much luck, I have had time to ponder things in the privacy of my mind. I think about the past, about people and feelings and many things in between. I promise you I am not this vague in my head.

I often reflect on the beauty I’ve seen. It makes me smile and frown at the same time, which explains my blank expression these days. I think about myself as if I’m being watched—as if there is someone who sees me and knows exactly what I’m thinking and where I’m going. This person cheers me on as I ride on past the cars and past the city lights into the pumpkin orange of the sun-drenched horizon. I begin to daydream and I picture a season much like this one where the birds are playing and I am far far away from my classes sitting on a grass hill doing nothing but delighting in the hope of the Lord. This here is timeless. It’s now and its forever. From here I re-enter reality and begin lots of prayers that usually end with “I don’t know what to pray. I just want to do the right thing.” At this point I wish upon the moon a thousand times before pedaling to familiar territory, and I hope quietly to myself that tomorrow I am blessed with the privilege do it all again because this is just what I need right now.


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