A Mid-Night's Walk

The dashboard blinks 2:45 at me in bright teal numbers. "Somewhere only we know" blasts through the speakers. The lamp post gleams brightly down at me. The campus is quiet, peaceful. There is a tranquility that the campus holds at night that makes me want to stay, to sit out there for hours, listening to my music quietly, staring up at the stars, well, the stars that one can see through the light pollution of a college campus.  It's the frightful dilemma of the insomniac and the night owls.  The hustle and bustle that the sun calls forth that then spills into dusk can be quite boring after a while. The peaceful lull of the night noises, the sound of silence throughout a campus commonly known for it's boisterousness is quite alluring.  I'll honestly never be able to explain what calls me out of bed to run an errand that is very unpleasing in the middle of the night, especially when I desire the feeling of sleeping and the comfort of my be so much.  It might be the feeling of being caged, a need to move, a need to stretch and roam around, that primal resistance to captivity taking hold for a fleeting moment maybe? I'll never know. Part of me desperately wants to know what makes an insomniac so that I can fight it and sleep when I have to, but then I don't at the same time.  I enjoy being able to lay awake and come up with brilliant ideas sometimes, or to go out at 3 in the morning because I just can't lay still. I definitely can't explain it, but at peaceful times like this, why would I want to?

The clock now flashes 2:58. I smile at the sight of small groups of students, bundled up men and scantily clad woman, walking back to their dorms after returning from a party. In a little bit, I'll be walking back. People will probably see me in a similar way, walking back home from a party, or some might think that I was trying to avoid a walk of shame by moving at 3 am while most people are still asleep. Whatever they think, I can only smile about because I know my reasons for late night skulking about.  They can think whatever they please.

Sweet dreams to those who can sleep,

Lunch Box.