I don’t sleep.
…Sometimes I go out walking late at night. It’s quieter, less stressful, less commotion. I like places that are usually full of people, bustling with movement and disarray–and experiencing them empty. Quiet. A different perspective on an everyday thing. If there’s a lawn, or a lightly wooded area, away from anywhere people may be up and about, I’ll lie down on the grass and look up at the moon. Look at the road and the lampposts and the cars and apartment buildings and electrical poles and wires and signs, head turned sideways on the grass; the horizontal decay of the prosaic–the everyday things–wires and metal and posts, traffic lights, the potholes in the asphalt, the fast food restaurant signs–things that aren’t built to please the eye–from a newly vertical perspective. A steep cliff of urban sprawl, plummeting downward, the night sky adjacent, the moon and stars realigned. Suddenly all the suburban decay becomes something new. Something–somehow–interesting. I hope never to find myself living in a gutter. But if I do, I know there’s at least a new and interesting perspective to be seen. Disavowal of shelter. Personal belongings. Things. Tired of looking at the same four walls. Maybe they’d look more interesting sideways.
A view from the gutter has it’s positive points.