The Paroles Of JK

5 in the morning is not a sensible time to be writing. There is every chance that the words I type, or try to type, will be trite and not right. But this strange buzzy feeling one gets knowing that the world still sleeps, that the sky outside is darkness, that at this time and in this place you enter a community of people who live their lives in the twilight…

a walk at this time of the morning gives one ideas about writing.

About the nature of any person who willingly chooses twilight over daylight; the company of animals over the company of humans. The people who see the city as weary Apollo rises over chip packets, vomit, the detritus of what people are wont to call “A good night out.”

I’m already half-way there, of course, strolling in the early morning chill. It’s a time of total tranquility, a feeling of drowsy, half-thereness. This is the magical time, for me. The dead of night is no more magical than high noon; darkness is darkness and light is light, but these wee small hours are when we sense the newness of everything. 

If everyone was awake, right now, looking out, as darkness fades to glorious gold, we would get more done. We would appreciate that we are spending too long in bed; that as the Sun rises we should rise with it and experience every hour. To lie abed and dream is too easy; arise now and feel the brave dawn.

The stars are drifting into sleep; pricks of light that shine through empty years to reach us. We shine to them, our tiny little star, and we fade in their sunlight too. As above so below; we see and do not comprehend our nothingness.

I am not as a I was born but as I was made; and I shall endure as I was made, from the going down of the Sun to its rising I shall endure. We all shall. We twilight folk. We walkers of shadow.

We stand on the cusp, where we are alone. We are one in our loneliness. We are lonely in our joining. Our solitude is worsened by the knowledge of others.

Let there be an end.

When there is darkness, there shall be an end.

When the light finally fades, there shall be an end.

When the sky goes black and the stars die, there shall be an end.

Watch now, and stand to arms against it. 

For the Dark, the Dark is rising, and none can hold it back.