What I have done with freedom

There is a profound sense of loneliness found only in the middle of the night, when the streets are still bustling with the swearing of cars, the building shaking with the mirth of laughter, and the silence filled with unsounding regret.

People find community in being alone, a small amount of time to reflect on the days behind and to prepare for the day forward. But for some, they seek community in their daily interactions. Watching ahead from the sidelines as bonds, friendships, and time pass physically, carrying with it the weight of missed chances. They feel the want to experience such things, to discuss late night secrets beyond the bustling streets and chatrooms, to sleep call at 12 AM in the evening after a long period of procrastinating and memory.

But they feel it is too late for such things, when the ground’s gray concrete dried up years ago, and the foundation of community already set, with a few cracks between its tiles, for those lonely ones.

It is pitiful to watch, like a dog cocking its head for attention, for someone to accept it and what they offer. It is equally pitiful to experience as well.