Skybox: An Examination

'Follow me home,

We will light the way.

For the darkness is but an illusion.'

The origins of this concept are perhaps years old, having manifested from my imagination during times of frustration. 

I have a problem with boxes--boxes and walls. I'm not a fan. They seem to me like self-imposed prisons in which we sentence ourselves, allowing visitation rights only on weekends. The lucky ones manage to escape for a meager two weeks each year. 

'All these boxes 

We build around ourselves

And yet

They do not

Cannot

Capture the richness of the sky.'

I observe Edmonton to be similar in composition. Buildings and roads, built upon a tidy grid. Lines and cars. Orderly. Predictable. Monotonous.

'Boxes. Layers upon layers of boxes,

Stacked neatly, side by side.

They call it city planning.

Too many crevices,

Corners for evil to hide.'

That is not to say that the city does not have its silver linings. Yet, I find myself growing bored with the routine. It is a sickness, an anxious voice, that creeps into my psyche every fortnight or three--"Run. Outside you are free." 

I have an affinity with adventure. To explore beyond that which is previously known gathers within me a deep happiness. In these moments I am truly alive. How I ache for such chaos. I pine for the wild. Out there is a stillness, a crispness that exhales like a mighty roar.  My greatest pleasure is to look upon a mountain vista, rich with trees, and to know that beyond those peaks there are little more than trees and trees and trees. No humans, no cars, no boxes. Just wild. 

Upon my return to the city in August, it became abundantly clear that my notion of boxes applies not only to physical dwellings, but to the clouds themselves. Edmonton has a way of closing in on itself when the clouds roll in. 

'Sometimes...

When the sky is dark and slate,

Illuminated by neither stars nor sunlight,

I feel alone.'

It's the stars I miss most, muted by a blanket of light pollution most nights. Yet, above the veil lies the vastness of the cosmos. If I close my eyes it almost feels like home.