Thursday Writing Thoughts: January 30, 2014

I look out my the living room window into the darkness and wonder what  it will be looking out the front window of my new apartment. I'm sure it won't be as dark because there are no trees to hide the street lights from my view. The only light I can see tonight is the porch light in the house across the street, but other then that everything in this neighborhood appears dark.

Sometimes the darkness feels comforting and sometimes it feels scary. I wonder how the darkness will feel in my new neighborhood. There are many things I wonder about, but right now, at this point in time, I wonder if I will ever move out of this house and into my new apartment.

I know moving to a studio apartment from a three-bedroom house will be difficult. I'm wondering who will help me move. I'm 67 years old. I'm alone in this house. I will be alone in  the new apartment. I'm not sure I like being along, but I don't want anyone except myself to in the studio apartment with me.

I don't want a pet because I'm not sure I'm ready to take care of one. I have five pet rocks and those don't take any effort to care for. I don't need to feed, water, walk, or change their litter box. The only thing I can do with my pet rocks is talk to them and they don't talk back. It's comforting to have something to talk to that doesn't talk back, but sometimes I would like to have someone with whom I can carry on a philosophical conversation.

Sometime I would like to have someone in my life that I could hand one of my poems or stories to read. I would like someone who can give me feedback without giving me grief. My pet rocks don't give me grief, but they don't give me feedback either. I can't give them a store to read and review while I'm sitting in the same room watching their faces. My pet rocks don't have faces, they are just ordinary rocks that for some unknown reason I have collected and keep on my computer desk.