liminal spaces. spooky, aren't they, the places between two things? the witching hour. fast food places so late at night it might be morning but it's hard to tell. airports. highway rest stops. hospital waiting rooms, especially at night. empty parking lots at 4 in the morning. melancholy. times and places and feelings that you can't quite pin down one way or another.
we find them deeply strange and, in my experience, deeply uncomfortable as well.
i think it's because they're the points in our lives where the world of polar opposites we've constructed fades, where we're left to confront the reality that nothing is really any different than anything else, that there is no clear difference between a person and a sack of rocks at the subatomic level and we've only tricked ourselves into thinking that we are somehow different from the ants in our homes that we spray with poison because we've decided their lives somehow matter less than our own.
i'm sorry. i know i'm rambling. i just can't stop thinking about this kind of thing, even though it makes my head hurt and my heart hurt worse.
and i had a nightmare. i dreamed i was a fox being hunted by wolves for stealing their food. i could tell by the smell of the place that i was in a forest, but i couldn't see a thing. it was so unimaginably dark. there was no moon and there were no stars. i came to the edge of a cliff. i could hear wind howling all along the space before me, and i knew somehow that the drop was a long one.
i woke up before i found out what happened. but the fear i felt when i realized that i was trapped stuck with me.
