boundless white

I'm lying on the ice rink at my parent's house. It's dark. I'm alone. I was listening to Halloween, Alaska, skating around in the dark, and I laid down on the ice with my arms and legs spread out. As the song I was listening to started to build I just had to sit up. But before I do, I look towards the house and the garage and my car. The boards of the ice rink are high enough that I don't see anything below their edge looking up other than the house, garage and my car. It looks as if on the other side of this ice rink the world just ends.

Like this is all there is. And it's a little scary. To be this isolated.

I know I'm not. I can hear cars driving past me. And of course I know there's a world of things out there, my thoughts are on them; considerably. It's a little more beautiful, but still scary. That the world could end right there on the other side of my car.

As I think these thoughts I'm losing my awareness of the cold. Until I think that, and then I start to feel it. As I sit up I can see now the expanse of snow that is the field that extends behind my parent's house, and it's just so WHITE. So untouched and white. I want to go running - running in the field. Until I lose my breath and just collapse in the snow. It's a boundless, boundless white. I know it wouldn't go forever, but it would go as far as I need it to, and I would just run and run and not think about getting back, and the day to come and tomorrow and next week and next year, anything, I would just be lost in the running. The running through the snow. And maybe I would fall asleep in the snow. I have such a hard time taking naps.

And then I want to be reading a book. I don't care what book. A book I hate. A book that's hard to read through but I'm reading anyway, and I'm not just glancing over the pages and forgetting the story almost as soon as I read it. I'm absorbing it. I'm really absorbing it. And it doesn't matter what it is, just so long as it's becoming part of me. Something I know that I can feel inside of me. And it's not that I don't want it, it's that I don't know how to get it. I don't know how to get more inside of me. I feel overflown with things I don't want. I don't know how to let the right things in. I want love. I want to let love in, and I don't know how. Because every time I try, I try to believe that it's not real. I try to tell myself it's not real. I try to find its flaws and its holes because I want it to be perfect and I know that it's not. And so I think it's not good enough for me. But this field of snow, so white, stretching before me. It's perfect. I just want to fall asleep.