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Tales of Solitude pt1 before/after [Ed. Note: The writing staff at Saintly Stories spent the last week secluded]
Tales of Solitude
Part One: Sooooo...what's going on over there?
I just stuck my head outside. It�s the salubrious cold and quiet of isolation. Boundaries of humanity pushed just far enough back for me to feel free. I didn�t start peeping until the second night. Which is to say, I saw some Christmas lights across the lake, and for one of the few times in my life, I broke out the binoculars and had a peer. Eyesight like a hawk, I leaned up against the glass, and gained no furtive knowledge. I saw a Christmas tree, well lit, and something in the corner of the window, flapping crazily, or so it seemed. It could have been anything, including tricks of the mind. I felt compelled by it, and tried to cook up several schemes to figure out what the fuck that thing was, exactly. But no good, trespassing is a punk�s way, and I�m no longer interested in felonies. Best and better just to leave people alone. Perhaps some night, when the moon is new and the ice is thick, I will walk out to the middle of it, binoculars in tow, and we will see what we will see. Which is a much different mental trip then it used to be. Past days would see me high and wild and feverish, breaking all bounds of grace and sensibility, if only because someone had the bad taste to have floor length draperies by a heating vent. Worse crimes have been committed for less reason. And why not. Many a good thing has been accomplished inside the system. All that aside, I�ve never been a peeping tom. I enjoy people watching, but privacy invasion has never been my gig. But in this solitude, you shrug off the layers, and you go. The weirdness creeps, and eventually you stop talking to yourself, even the rants or odd noises that seem to come will go. And you�re left wondering, what the fuck is that in the window across the lake?
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