All I'm doing, all I've done, was sit and watch the water, and the stars. I've listen to the waves, the wind, and the nocturnal animals. I can smell the water in the air, the sweet scent of the earth, the trees. I feel the cold, refreshing air, and the hard picnic table I'm sitting on. I can taste the moist air, flowing in as I breathe deep and slow.
I know I'm not supposed to be out here, not at night. I'm supposed to be in my cabin, sleeping with the others, but I cannot. My mind races and turns banks and jolts. I can't calm it down enough to rest. So I snuck out, sit here, and watch the night. My mind has never been such a mess, not bad enough to force me to stay up all night. Yet here I am, who knows what time it is, dressed in black, and just watching.
Such a mess, I cannot focus on anything, my mind blank yet full. I'm thinking of nothing yet everything. I cannot capture the thoughts, but they're there, bothering me, soothing me. It's worse in the day, the councilors explain the rules, but my mind is elsewhere. No one knows the struggle of the battle I know naught of, just that it's there.
The stars move on their way, the moon slowly treks across the sky, yet I pay no heed. I stare blankly out into the small lake, so subtle the movement of waves, not quite so still it appears glass like. The wind isn't close to the water as I hear it whisper past my ear, the hairs on my arms rising up, but I remain unbothered.
Life, a simple state we seep through, a short time of existence we must endure. I dare not think to far ahead, instead take life one stepping stone at a time, accepting help as its given, and giving help to those who've help me. It's the least I can do, and the least they can do. If it wasn't for my friends, I don't know who I'd be. Perhaps different then I am now.
This might be a christen church camp I'm in, but I can't help but wonder if there really is a higher power, or is Hell really such a bad place as many claim it to be. Little things like this that have no real meaning in my daily life style that I'm now questioning, and it's the little things like these that send my mind into a tornado or hurricane, take your pick.
Subconsciously I notice the stars slowly fading out as dawn approaches, which mean it's closing in on either 4 or 5, or somewhere in between there. One of those little things that I've picked up over the past few years, winter the sun sets at 4 and rises at 7, in the summer it's around 3:30 in the morning the sun begins to rise and it don't set until nearly 10. It's where I'm located on the planet.
Still, my thoughts race without brakes, my eyes never tearing from the water. I feel as if I'm no longer in reality, but rather lost in the large expanse of my imagination and struggling to return. I wonder how my friends are doing. I meet up with one of them earlier in the week to give to a birthday present, one she was happy to receive. Rather, I wonder about my other friends, and what they are you too.
The wind picks up; the waves start to become more evident. The sky is a blue-gray as I mindlessly pull my legs closer to me. I know I should head back to my cabin, but I don't move. It isn't a matter that I can't move; I just didn't feel like moving.
Then I remember of that pre-camper, in the mess of my mind I cannot pick out her name, but she look up to me, talked with me. I never felt like a role model until she entered my life. I feel the faintest of smiles cross my face. Oh how rare it was indeed to see me express emotion. Yes, I laugh, and have moments of anger, but most of the time I'm rather stoic.
"What are you doing down here?" I hear someone say behind me. There was no anger, just surprise.
"Can't sleep." I hear myself say, my voice soft, "Can't think."
"Are you saying you've been here all night?"
"Perhaps… I can't remember." I say, "My mind is such a jumble mess that time appears to be such a small feat to worry over."
Unlike most girls, my voice is deep, I didn't know how deep until I hear it on a recording. However, no one minds, after all I'm just another person. We are all flawed, some don't wish to think that, but we are.
"You do know this could get you in trouble." The person said, drawing my mind back to the present.
"Aware, yes, concerned, no." I say, watching the water as the waves danced, and a line of one of my poems dancing in my head, 'no one rides the same wave twice over again.' I feel my body slowly coming back to reality, much to its dislike.
"How can you not be concerned?"
I turn my head to face the person. I can't put a name to her face, but none the less I answer her question: "Have you any random night the need to keep awake for seemingly no reason?"
With that said, I looked back over to the water, watching the waves dance softly my mind is still a jumble, but the small talk between me and the councilor has dragged me back to reality. I might survive another day, but once again, time appears to be such a small feat to worry over.
Just a little random something. i've always wanted to stay outside at night in camp, but never have.
Please leave a review