lights

there’s a long hallway of lights.

lights that i know. ones i remember and ones that i don’t, but lights that i know.

walking through you’d think the lights would blind you, for it to be brighter or at least as bright as the sun but no. it’s like vacuum, the brightness contained somehow. you can pinpoint where the shine of one begins and where it fades, the next one beginning again.

in a hallway of lights you’d also think that there would not be darkness but you’d be surprised. some lights are unplugged, some have never been lit. some have been turned off for the time being just to end up resting, never to be turned back on again. each and every one still holds their space,. it’s as if they are lit, but there is no resemblance of light. just the brutal emptiness of space.

the colours are fascinating, you can really see it all. that one neon sign at the old bar, the blue lava lamp with those yellow blobs moving around, even the comforting glow of the childhood nightlight that you never really managed to outgrow. they’re all here.

there exists comfort in most things, this hallway is consistent with that phrase. the fact that comfort can be found makes it possible for the opposite to naturally be true and as luck would have it, the hallway of lights proves me right again. the good ones are nice. it’s good to feel the warmth of your childhood home again. it’s reassuring to return back to those nights at your friend’s house. the discomfort only arrives when the soulless glow of the hospital overpowers you.

it makes you realise that there will never be an option to escape it all. with the good comes the bad, or something like that anyway. the lights are there, you are there, they will continue to exist, so will you. more will join the collection, some might light up again. you’ll return back to the hallway again and it will feel exactly the same.