it was 7:42 in new york city, and we shared the same time zones, yet it was 31 degrees.
i knew new york would wait because places didn't change their mind about you and run away or fall in love with you. places became sedentary, the sunset came almost everyday at almost the same hour. the only difference was the people who admired it and the colors, ranging from your 5th birthday cake pink, to your old friends eye color blue, or your old soccer jersey orange. feeling infatuated with a place i didn't even know completely was familiar to me because i became infatuated with people distant from me. i don't know if it was a defense mechanism so i wouldn't get hurt by the ones closest to me, or if it was because i was allowed to make up a false identity of them in my head. the unknown was the only thing i craved for. but the unknown can become the known and the question floats above my head, will i still love the unknown once it becomes known? is everything an illusion and a figment of imaginations, turning into whirlwinds of crazy infatuations? i need to find the truth, but new york is so far, and everyone unknown shook me, made me wonder, tremble, spin round and round into confusions and questions. there was an unknown that was near, from a saturday night, from 6:30 pm, January, that i was sure about. the curiosity leads to an array of questions i can only answer if i approach the unknown.

nobody was who they claimed to be anymore
they changed, mostly rotted
everything is rotting and i wanted to run away
i did not want to become expired at this age,
decomposed into an attitude of egocentricity and midnight humor,
i did not want to ridicule those around, spewing venom consistently
making someone feel less and causing them to decay
i wanted to love everybody despite their capacities, their intelligence, their attitude
i did not want the trend of hating the human race
i cannot stand "i hate everyone but myself" anymore
its time to put an end
i refuse to live my life with negative energy hovering around swelling me up into a mound of stress and forehead wrinkles

hear me out
i need to leave
don't rot me too

and in that moment the wattage of the light bulbs died with one last flicker of energy, and the sun set like the days in autumn when it was pitch black at 5:30. I was still fog and he was still a light bulb, shining pretty for another girl. fog was yearning for a chance to ascend once again and become a cloud, her last hope in becoming meaningful. she wished to carry rain drops to heal droughts and move to display sunshine

i believe the reason you are alone is because you need to be alone
you are living in a the box of loneliness only peering through the cracks to see when your time will come
when you should be staring at the walls figuring yourself out in the silence that is so golden
you are seeing this as such a curse but it could be a hidden blessing.
for you cannot coexist properly if you cannot coexist with your flesh and soul.
this loneliness is whispering to use him for something else other than moping because he is beautiful and practical
God is giving you this time because he knows you need to learn to love yourself
you are not ready yet because you are not capable of treating these blessings properly without peace within you.
you cannot love if you barely love yourself
this time is for caring for yourself, laying by the window and cleaning yourself up like the house cat
be still
it is coming

after 8 days in a place where my name was unknown i am convinced that i need to leave.
not leave this earth, just leave this town.
i needed to go to a city, something like nyc, los angeles, chicago, london, or miami.
i figured out why, because i need to be alone.
yes of course, this sounds so silly, a city is full of millions of people and you are practically enclosed in a shell of other peoples skin and encapsulated by human noise.
but the city has that thing about it, everyone is alone. you are anonymous.
you will not see the same girl who whispered curses at you in her brain at the coffee shop and the same curious boy who would not take his eyes off of you on the subway.
in order for that, you would need to push yourself to talk to them if you would like to see them again, and you would dare to speak out so you don't loose opportunity.
you wouldn't think, "i'll talk to him next time i see him around."
you will not hear rumors about the girl at the coffee shop or meet her friends and be a part of their life. you could shake her off and never see her again and again.
people were fast paced and running,
city dwellers do not live in family sized homes, they usually came alone or in pairs to chase dreams they are hungry for.
i needed that time alone.
when i had that time, i could figure myself out, discover what i want, plan, meditate, think, breathe my own polluted air.
i needed that.
its why i stay up past midnight while everyone at home is asleep, its the only time i get alone and the city shifts a little closer to me.

i was doing fine
fine as in
nothing at all
doing nothing at all

things felt settled down yet unfinished,
kind of started and then left there
like a puzzle a child started to solve but never came back to because he got distracted
new people came into the room
breathed new air into my lungs
which allowed me to expel the old air of old friends and old people
(old as in, i'm able to get tired of you, not old as in wrinkles, though they caused wrinkles too, like smile lines and crows feet, sometimes those hundred elevens between your eyebrows too)

i sit patiently because i feel something coming
i see something rising
i feel as if there's a whisper of the big man
telling his daughter to wait patiently and follow him in the pastures he planted
the city and art will come along as well as the people who breathe new air into me
goosebumps rise along lanky arms as i think about the new dawn
a new life is soon
maybe soon as in three years
maybe soon as in the man's three years which convert to three minutes or seconds
i don't know
but i'm willing to wait

two hundred and eighty seven hours
i have two hundred and eighty seven hours and one minute
to convince myself to open my mouth and mind
because i was not going to let myself lose an opportunity  
which is what i do as often as the sun sets

the only thing i can think of is how the first time i saw you
i remember thinking that maybe the cliche stories of love at first sight (that were as believable as a man claiming he has never sinned) were actually true.
the smoke rises and the lights come out and the vibrations in the room raise and all i want is for you to hold me like the girl that is in your hands right now
and all i get from you is a step on my jazz shoe and a look on your face that speaks "i'm sorry" and then a smile of 100 watt light bulbs

and i think about how light bulbs come in different shapes in sizes, and we are both the curly q bulbs with twists and turns and heads of curls
but we never were too daring with using too much energy and didn't make much noise

i needed to know you like the man needed to reach the moon
like the woman needed to find a perfect shoe
(unnecessary in reality, but extremely important in their mind)

now there's two hundred and eight six hours and forty three minutes
until the wattage dies and the sun will set