Sometimes, I feel like I could overachieve my goals, exceed my horizons, conquer the world, write the best stories, craft the best music, win the greatest triumphs, if only I had someone to do it for. If only I had one person to impress. Not the multitude of faces all around me all day, every day — one face. One person. One partner. One desire. One love. If there was one person I was trying to impress, I think that would be enough to push myself past the friction of stasis, past the “why bother”, to get the wheels rolling, to move the world. But there is no one, just everyone. I look around my apartment and see my projects half started. Sketches, notes, ideas, fragments. Everyone is not enough. The thought of a million eyes watching means my performance is personal. But to have two of the most important eyes watching makes it personable.
On sunny days there are actually two sunsets.
The first, at high noon, when the sun is vertical enough to be obscured by the eaves and cease shining its warm light of promise into the windows of my house. The mood shifts, the room turns blue, the mind bends to the knowledge that daylight is fleeting, and things must now be done, hope or no hope.
The second, of course, is when it is horizontal enough to be obscured by the landscape and cease shining its cold light of performance on my world. The irises widen, the creeping blue that follows whispers promises for when we light the fires of the fleeting night. Reach out and rest now, hope or no hope.