hyalineskies

I’m sitting on Deck 27 at the Delta, looking out over a darkening Toronto skyline, watching the people in this apartment complex next to me.

It’s interesting to watch people in their apartments. The woman to my right meticulously watered her row of plants in her window. A trendy man toiled away on a laptop. This one woman with blonde hair fixes her sofa cushions. One man, who I can only guess is Asian (can’t see too well from here), and he’s doing the same thing I am: sitting, looking over this huge Canadian city, the breeze blowing his hair as he looks for an answer to his introspection among the skyline.

I’m still questioning why I went on this trip. I had no reason to, really; however, it’s been great. And if anything, when I watch these people here, and they watch me , I arrive at the same conclusion that I think they do: I’m not alone. I’m just like everyone else in this city, searching for the reason for my own existence, wondering why what happens every day happens. The devil in me smiles when I look over the skyline and see a vulnerable city that’s mine for the use. The angel in me smiles as I just focus out on the CN Tower’s blinking lights, wondering if anyone else out there is zoning out on the same lights that I am .

(I like this city. It provides me with a time to be introspective. This is the first time in a while that I’ve been calm like this, and I need it.)

Two more of these apartments come alive, and once again I just feel closer to the populace as a whole. Is this what we do as humans? Do we dress up and conquer the nightlife in the name of fun only to retreat to our homes to gaze out upon a skyline?

I don’t know, really. Soemthing in me really just wants to stay in this chair forever. The other part of me looks over the streets below. Why is it then that we lead double lives? Why is it a social taboo to not be philosophical in our nightlife settings? Why do we resort to cheesy pickup lines and social superficiality? I don’t know, but at least these few Toronto apartments give me a bit of faith in the people I’ll meet tonight. It makes them seem… human, and when it’s over I can take the elevator to 27 and stare out over the skyline, and think some of these people left the electronic sound for the electric skyline simply to think the same things I am, and hopefully they’ll see another person doinf the same thing, simply so they know that as their hair separates in the wind, someone, somewhere, is knowing that they’re not alone.