But for the grace of Fire

This is a small vignette from really long while back. It's short, it's stupid, it's borderline emo, and you know what? There, but for the grace of Fire, would I have gone.

Good hunting

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She looked at him, her face worried. He hand't slept much the past few days. Or weeks, really. He was forgoing food, and people, and mostly everything that wasn't work or any number of stupid hobbies. She was worried sick.

“That’s insane. You are going to hurt yourself like that. You are just…” her voice trailed off, and her face went blank, suddenly realizing.

“Penny in the air...” He said, his voice testing.

“...you are just killing yourself in the most productive way possible.”

“...And the penny drops!.” He said, clapping his hands. “Yes, I so very much am. I don’t want this project to work. I don’t want to get a raise. I don’t want things to get better for me. I don’t want to find someone, or get in better shape, or buy some shiny new toy. Most days, I don’t even want to be. So, in the stealthiest, quietest, least hurtful way for everyone, I’m just speeding up the ride.”

“Speeding up? What the hell do you mean?”

“I’m done with the scenery. I’m done with the road, the journey, whatever you want to call it. I don’t want to crash and burn, to be noisy and flip the table on my way out. That’s not me. I’d much rather make everyone forget about me, but that’s not within my means. So this is my solution. “ He started talking faster and faster, looking at her, through her. ”Or, if you prefer the metaphor, Death is running after all of us, hunting us. I’m not running towards her. I’m just running as fast as I can, trying to tire myself. I run in hopes of getting caught. There is no honour in longing, no dignity in grief. There are only passing days and forced smiles and the knowledge that not only things won’t ever be the same. They won’t be better. So, hopefully, something will take me away before I have to find out what the rest of my life will look like."

“This...this is just crazy. You can’t do that. I won’t allow it.”

His eyes focused again on her, and he barked a coarse, rough laugh. “Crazy? Yes, of course. But there is a method to my madness. And pray tell, whatever will you do?  What will you tell them? That I am working hard, and living a good life? It’s expected. That I laugh and smile when the time is proper? Nothing wrong there. That I joke and push and look at everything with fey eyes? That’s kind of new, but still a good thing. That I sometimes look sad? Everyone does, once in a blue moon. Tell them I’m trying to end it. Please do.” He lowered his face to put it at height with hers, a breath away from each other, a manic smile that only touched his lips, and whispered. “No one will believe you.”

Carpe Noctem

Carpe diem

We've all heard the expression. Maybe from a movie such as Dead Poets Society, maybe in some philosophy class, maybe some pompous friend of ours has uttered it while triying to dazzle us with his knowledge (I'm usually that guy).

The aphorism, first coined by Horace in his Odes, is meant to teach us to seize the moment, as time flies away and the bastard thinks very little of us, and doesn't come back when asked to. The future is unknown, for the most part, and Lady Luck is quite the bitch, so you can seldom leave your fate to her. Thus, you should try to change, affect or seize what you actually have within your grasp: today.

I like the concept, if you understand it fully. Makes you bold, but not reckless. Brave, but not stupidly so. You go wild in a party, but not enough to wreck the place. Mad enough to confess to someone, not enough to ask for his or her hand. It's fine, it clicks and has had one hell of a following this last few decades. I do have a problem with the wording, though.

You see, literally "Carpe diem" means "Seize the day". I know it's meant to signify the whole day, but it just bugs me. Days are boring. We live most of our lives by daylight, so plenty of good stuff happens there, of course. But by daylight, we are all, each and everyone of us, too scared. During the day, we think too much, we ask for permission too much, we worry too much. Days are good and all, but nights? 

Nights are cold, and dark, and merciless, sometimes. Nights are times of long shadows, strange noises and phantom lights. So we rise up to the challenge. The best things in life happen at night. We are braver. We think the shadows will mask our faces, our intentions, our nervous smiles and flustered breathing, so we just do things and say things and confess things without thinking. We feel the cold air and stay closer together, and held hands and embraces mean much, much more. We are wilder, and bolder, and reckless. We remember, deep down, a time where big bad wolves weren't part of a fairytale, where a bonfire meant life and warmth and dancing and safe sleep. At night, we declare undying love and oath-kept friendship. We are so much more beautiful, because we, under the cover of Darkness, are truer to ourselves. 

So Carpe Noctem, everyone. Seize the nights.

The days will tend to themselves.