The Bitter Cold

A few nights back I went walking down a local trail. It was pitch black, with only the faintest of glows being provided from the surrounding buildings and the night sky. A meteor shower was on; and a group of parents marched their kids out to see it. Staring up in awe of the universe, I caught one in the corner of my eye, filling the sky with embers. The air was dry and frigid, filling me with a long forgotten feeling of vitality with each breath.

From here I was reminded of high school; how I would wake up at an ungodly hour to study at Tim Hortons when it opened at 5 AM. Of course, I never really did get much studying done, but maybe that was just an excuse in the first place. Indeed, perhaps the rush of cool air dragging along my face while the deafening silence of the morning is blown out by my favourite music was the point in and of itself.

High school has been on my mind recently; how quickly it passed, how easy it was to see my friends every day, how clear and cut out my daily work was, and that sweet overarching goal of getting into university that made each day fit into place. It's hard not to feel nostalgic for such things. I would have never had such a thought at the time, of course. I hated the drudgery of English, and loathed the perils of Physics. Many of those classes felt like wasted time, where the teacher would convey in an hour what could have been read in 10 minutes.

Yet here I am. I stand now with more freedom now than I could have ever asked for in those days, but for whatever reason I lack the ambition (or perhaps the imagination) to do anything with it. I spend my days scrolling the same few websites, playing games I don't find very fun, and watching television that only makes me crave the real thing more. Even the distractions have lost their edge.

I don't wish to delude you, reader, with any grand conclusion that's going to fix everything and make it right. I have a bad habit of doing that. I must admit, It's terribly dark out here, and I can't see more than a few feet in front of me. The stars are dim, and the shooting stars rare. What shall my path look like even three months from now? I do not know, I only hope it is made brighter.