| I walked in, and the room went black. I started seeing through a charcoal tinted tunnel, and it was only the beginning of the evening. Sure, we sat around, and chatted about our lives, but you know. . .you know that feeling you get? The one right in the pit of your stomach that tells you that something has changed, or is about to? Before everyone starts telling the same stories that you remember in the same monotone voices they always had when you were kids, and you realize that you have outgrown your childhood?
There's that feeling you get in your gut that tells you that you have become someone/something different, bigger, stronger. . . better. Then you just wander around for a few minutes, trying to catch your bearings. . . latching on to any sentence fragment that might contain something familier. . . Just to grab on so you don't fall too fast, or grow too far. That dumb, deaf, mute, blind, expression on your face that tells everyone around you that you are different. . . but only if they take the time to look, or if they are changing too.
And you sit in the corner, drinking a triple latte and reading some untitled manuscript composed by an author you have never heard of, just so you have something to bring up in conversation later on. Something that seperates you from the whole, and adds perspective to your life. You live in the shadows cast by little candles on the wall, sometimes leaning left, sometimes right, sometimes just taking a moment to yourself to be still, and reflect, and flicker, but you are stuck in the moment. . . and eventually your candle will die, and you won't be the same person you were when you sat down. And sometimes you worry that you are alone in the room because the lights are out, and you cant see the other people who are like you, wandering around in the dark, just trying to deal.
There's that feeling you get when you know. . . You can't go back, and you don't really want to go forwards. . . but you know that you cannot remain in tandem, paused in any man's moment for an eternity.
There isn't anything you can do about it, that feeling, except maybe get lost in the idea of feeling at all. | 
