carpe noctem

It never helps when someone makes it a competition, as if they could stave off the meaninglessness of it all by somehow being able to tell themselves that their pain is is greater than others’ and that that, somehow, makes them stronger.

It never helps when someone makes it a match, of who spouts more bland niceties than the other, until it all blends into a stream of redundant and rephrased nothings, words without meaning, as if the world turned on light alone, as if there was a way the coin could be heads on both sides.

It never helps when someone makes it a race, trampling on safe spaces and preferring to let dismissal and silence creep in, turning the camera toward their corner of the world, their chance to show the world what a wonderful person they’re trying to be, when all we really are is just a bunch of idiots, trying to become our own intangible Joneses.

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