Kalliope 2015 | Page 160

So you are him and he is you, like it or not. “Haha,” Scott says, after you’ve gotten everyone straightened up and are back in the doorway. “Threesome much?” “No, not tonight Scott. Just gotta sleep,” you say, coming into the hall and closing the door lightly behind you. “Mind if I go lay down on the couch in your room?” “But, no not at all, but oh, a girl is looking for you. A blonde girl with sunglasses.” “Really?” you ask. He nods. “Ok. Thanks for telling me, Scott,” you say after a second, “but I just need to sleep right now. Hey, if you see her again, tell her we’ll talk some other time. Thanks man.” Lying down across the couch in Scott’s room, wearing only your boxers, you pull a spare blanket over yourself and enjoy the relative peace and silence. The party is still going strong downstairs, but thankfully, it sounds and feels very far away. “DTR. DTR. DTR,” you say to yourself. You’re seeing this label for what it is now. A chant. An incantation. An otherwise meaningless yet somehow mystical sound. Is meaninglessness power? Who knows? You keep a window open in Scott’s room, and soon find it’s nice to feel the October breeze wash over your skin in the pitch-black night. It’s more than nice, actually – your chills and goosebumps suddenly make you feel overwhelmingly alive. For the first time in a while, you are acutely aware of how it feels to be a nothing. Not a number and not a charity case. Not even the Old Spice guy. Just nothing. As a nothing, you breathe in and out for the first time – long, deep breaths of cold air. It feels amazing. It feels like how you think those spiritual people must feel when they meditate correctly, when they’ve been humming to themselves for years and finally can just disappear into their own minds. Maybe this is that. Maybe that is this. Alone in the dark. Thinking about breathing. Admitting that you are you and you are nothing. It’s so simple. It’s so simple that you have to smile and laugh. 160