The Echoes
Wave One (v1.00)
THE HOUSE OF ZAN — Zan
Metaphorically, we’re all driving around with no real place to go.
Sometimes we are the driver. Sometimes we are the passenger.
We have an idea of where we would like to go, or at least where we wish we could end up.
But it’s late.
All the good places are closed.
The places still open are either sketchy, depressing, or serving tacos after midnight.
Even in the darkness, on the road, there is still a lot to see and take in.
You start noticing more when things get quiet and there is nobody around to keep you occupied.
Depending on the company you keep, the quiet can be nice, calm, and relaxing.
It can feel like control. Like a choice.
Maybe it’s the old familiar roads and buildings. Maybe it’s out beyond the city limits.
Never mind the smell of polecat drifting in through a slightly cracked window.
The lights at night can be so pretty.
Something as plain and ordinary as a fully lit McDonald’s arch in the dark can feel inviting.
You know what it really means. You know the real intention.
Yet, in the breeze of the night air, it still feels like something.
Like a sign of life.
Even if you are not hungry for a bag of regret, there is comfort in knowing it is there, glowing, open, and waiting for you to want it badly enough.
The threshold for salvation can sometimes get lower when you have been on the road long enough.
You know there are places you need to be and things you should be doing, and you still keep driving because whatever you are looking for is not back there.
Something in yourself that you want to see in the real world instead of only in your thoughts.
It’s getting late.
The safe, secure life you’ve built, to the best of your abilities, is going to become clearer again with the rising sun.
I’m not running from that life. I just need to feel more.
If I keep thinking about it, I’m going to remember who I need to be for others, not what I want to be.
To myself. To someone.
Before I go back into the night again.
To remember what it feels like when my eyes are closed and I’m still moving.
Not forward, but upward.
Inside the darkness, not toward the perfect light.
It’s like I could vanish into it for a while and feel more real than I do in daylight.
I can drive a little longer.
Under the moonlight.
Straight on till morning.
Resonance: “Mitchell Lane” – Ben Folds Five
The Echoes · Wave One
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