The night presses upon me, how rarely I am here at my computer writing words, and yet, as the daylight gives way to the relentless tides of night I cannot help but to hear whispers within the deep well of darkness as it cocoons around me. It has always been this way for me, as the night insulates my world, I feel my mind expanding out as it were questing for others, I feel myself expanding, as if the form of my body was but ribbons in the wind, free to flutter where the mind takes it. Tonight I sit and ponder on the inter-connections we make, how distance can be such an illusion. Did you know that psychologically, people are most likely to make friends with others based solely on geography. Not on interest. On geography. We become friends with people that we are around. It makes sense I suppose in a basic sort of way. Physical touch is so important to the human condition. We like people we can see, people we can touch, people who we can share an intimate space with. I am no exception to this rule, I like to hug, to feel my arms around a solid body, to hear someone's voice and see the look in their eyes when they are teasing me. And yet, when the night has stripped me down to that tendril of spirit, I feel as if I quest beyond such illusions of geography, beyond the idea that the body is fixed, and feel as if my molecules move along the currents of space itself touching, connecting to a larger form of myself. Sometimes when I lie in bed, I wonder if our energy, that essential part of ourselves that makes us unique, that makes us who we are at our core, if that part, seeks out others that are not close in distance, but close in spirit. I wonder if we draw people to us, and if we are drawn to them, despite geography and the limits the physical world seems to place. It is a question that one can fall asleep to, hovering in the spaces in between.



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