Five Revolutions Matthew Labrecque
The gray Sunday skies do little to weigh me down, as my head bobs to the beat of the music in my headphones as I chop vegetables while cooking for the upcoming week. Outside my apartment, the sidewalk is littered with empty beer cans and condoms still in their wrappers. A reminder of the parties that the fraternities throw on my street. Despite the dreary view outside, the inside of my home has a gentle grow as an image of mental peace and order is painted in the misty evening. Outside however, Durham has become a ghost town with not even a mouse stirring.
Walking through the inky darkness of early morning when it’s still clothed in a woolen gray cloak, the light drizzle falls on me as I head back from my broadcast on short-wave radio, I look up into the dark sky and let the cool raindrops fall on my face. I smile, and am one with at nature. At peace.
Cool evening air bites my nose as I again prepare for another evening graveyard at the radio station. It’s funny, how once everything is gone you realize that maybe you do spend too much time on the internet, too much time around other people, and not enough time just enjoying that deafening silence and vastness of the outdoors. That silence, only broken by the sound of birds and animals reminds you of what life really is about, exploring the world and all it has to show. I continue my pondering as I shatter the nighttime silence with the first chords of a grunge song.
Thursday brings more cold, dreary weather which does little to improve my mood. I’m already annoyed that I had to run all over the county to find a place to get blood work drawn. The gray skies and sun play peekaboo with each other, and the cold, damp, depressing air around Durham only exacerbates my bad mood. I see constant reminders in public about how consumerist our culture has become, and it angers me. The concrete jungle that I’m surrounded with doesn’t help either, as I sorely miss the fields and forests of my hometown. I go to the gym in an attempt to refocus my energy, and the walk does me good.
Walking to the MUB late in the evening, I have a new song by Edgehill playing through my headphones. I think about how it’s lonely being in Durham by yourself during spring break, but in a beautifully bittersweet way, like a rose with thorns on it’s stem. I almost think I might miss the late nights on the radio station because of how quiet everything is before and after my show, and I can hear myself think again during the silence.