Night

I came home from work today tired, droopy, and sleepy. I unfolded my dinner from a paper bag. I sat in front of the desk, played music, ate quietly, and thought of life as a bachelor. Not in the romantic sense-- I have a partner after all, but of spending my days living alone. I do my work, I play video games at times, and I make my own meals-- if I make them at all.

Aside from art and philosophy, what else is there to hold life together but kids? I haven’t figured out yet what role they have to play in the equation. Our society is democratic now, on an intensely personal level. There is no debt we have to pay to carry a family name or prolong the race. It is no joke that kids are a liability. Yet, life seems awfully lonely without children. I still have many years before I should even consider it realistically. I can imagine though. The house will be too quiet. There will be no one to distract me from work. There will be no arguing, no crying, no splitting-up of chores; but still, no music, no conversation. Who, besides me, will play with my toys? Who would there be to cook for and give lessons to?

Maybe I just miss my parents. Maybe I am still thinking about that dream I had last night. As it went in the dream, my sister became pregnant, and she didn’t know if she wanted to give up or keep the child. She’s actually in the point of her life when she could choose either. My mother’s birthday is this Monday. I went to the store earlier and bought her a present. They think I’ve deserted them. I haven’t really though. I just left home. My father has gotten to the point where every time we come home to visit, he cries after we leave. He tries to do it in his room. Mother hears. We always end up knowing anyway. I used to hate him, but I can’t anymore. A little distance, a little freedom to do things as I want to do them-- and the feeling has more or less faded. I remember talking to a friend recently from high school. She hated her father too. She had more reason to then I did, but then her father died. It was so abrupt. I heard about it months after it had happened. She hasn’t spoken a bad word about him ever since. I wouldn’t call it regret exactly-- what she feels for him-- but I think she looks past his faults more and more. He wasn’t bad exactly, but different. The heart was there, but he didn’t go about things the right way.

What to do about the rest of the night? I am too tired to do work. Too tired to clean. It is too early yet to go to sleep, and I have no compulsion to go out and seek friends. I could still have a good night if I wanted to, but then I’d kill the whole night and be tired and sleepy at work tomorrow. So I’m stuck here, with only my thoughts and a paper-bagged dinner for company.