of dusk and solitude
I'm definitely going to be missing that certain kind of quiet I only get at home when I'm back up at uni.
The simple act of staying up late into the night with a window open, listening to the sounds of distant traffic, the whistling of wind passing through pine branches, the unmistakable low hum-buzz of electricity flowing through power lines, all intermingling into one cohesive soundscape like a white noise machine that plays the familiar foley tracks of the life I have lived, and have yet to. I'd say the only thing that'd make it better is the sound of rain, though I suppose I'd be getting enough of that when I'm back for winter break.
It's strange, really. Trying to be alone with my thoughts is something I must actively set myself up to do; knowing the times at which the house is quietest has been second-nature to me, almost a practiced sort of schedule memorized after long nights spent staying up far too late to be normal in my childhood and adolescence.
Back then, I'd done it to have more time to indulge in my hobbies and interests, just now I find myself reminiscing about all those game sessions that went long into the night, late night chats with friends I no longer know, the multitudes of times I'd been caught awake, and the few where my dad actually set a blackout period in the router so I wouldn't be able to use the internet past nine (joke's on you pops, I figured out how to circumvent that in like, five minutes), all core memories of a time where the worst things I'd have to worry about were bits of math homework and essays I'd forgotten to write.
Then again, I am an English major, so not much has changed in that regard.
Still, it's peculiar to me how often I find myself awake at night, isolated from the rest of the world in my own little personal bubble, listening to the distant howls of passing airplanes as I peck away at my keyboard, writing about nothing in particular, and everything at once. Not a cruel existence, but an indifferent one. And now that I'm thinking about it more, I'm not sure if I'll miss it, when I'm gone.