Bright Yellow Rain

I had a dream last night, or more of a vision in a half-conscious state. The world was black, or deep blue, the same as the night sky. All was dark, no stars, no moon, nothing. And form the sky came a bright yellow rain, like paint down out of nowhere, covering the rooftops, flowing over gutter edge, filling the cracks in the sidewalk. Drips of thick, deeply bright yellow almost cartoonish in their curves and drops and brightness as if it were all out of a graphic novel, pouring over the infinite, abandoned blackness. On and on it went, this contrast, the bright rain and the dark world, never mixing, just one on top of, next to, and around the other.

Such is the state of my mind these days, a paradox of improbable possibilities and contradictions that don't seem to be able to resolve themselves. Emotionally and socially exhausted after a long stretch of events and happenings these past couple of years, I am at a loss as to where to go from here. Part of me wants to just disappear for a while, take a sabbatical to the other side of the country or the other side of the world after throwing my cell phone into the deepest lake I can find. Part of me feels the deepest need to create something, to inject this state of confusion into a paint brush and throw it onto a canvas or dip my hands into a ball of clay and contort it to no end. Part of me wants to start over completely and leave everything behind, and part of me wants simply to get through the next day with some semblance of sanity.

It's funny how the state of mind can alter so dramatically. Really, nothing has changed in my life physically, and no one has left my little circle of a world for me to mourn over. Nothing new has appeared to disrupt my state of being; and yet everything about my emotionally state seems to have shifted so far from where it was before that I don't see a way of getting back. Perhaps it is simply the introverted part of my personality finally reappearing after a very long hiatus, draining me of all of my energy and forcing me to withdraw and refuel for the next adventure. The only problem with that is that I cannot for the life of me see what the next adventure is or even get a semblance of an idea of what direction it will lead me. Perhaps this is what happens to people who don't have children and will most likely never have children. There comes a point where you wonder what exactly the point of it all is. If there is no one to pass the torch on to, no legacy or next generation and no prospect of one, then you are pretty much the end of the line. There is no more. It becomes a world about you and you alone, a selfish world, and surely that is not all that life is supposed to be about.

Perhaps that is the challenge, to find whatever it is I can do to pass on what is me to those around me and those to come, even if they aren't necessarily 'mine.' Perhaps it is my challenge in this life to find a greater purpose and make my own existence worth more that what it appears on the surface. I just wish there was some clue as to what that purpose is supposed to be. I just wish there was some way to figure out where the bright yellow rain is coming from in order to get it to pour over this abysmally dark world.