One of the more odd, quirky things I do is, when it's dark, and I am hungry I will make food or ice cream and eat it in the dark. 

      In most kitchens I've ever had the pleasure of gracing my presence, they're usually dimly lit by a light under the microwave on the wall, or some other tiny lamp for reference in the dark. Sometimes the moon, or the outside porch light coming through the window. I'll make a few sandwiches, or scoop a bowl of ice cream when no one is around. But instead of going back to my room, turning a light on and sitting down, I will stand, in the dark leaning against the counter and eat in silence and relative darkness. I really enjoy this. 

    I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's the feeling of owning the night. Owning the space as no one else is around. It has to be dark though. Alone in the light, you're not truly alone. Occasionally, a cat will follow me, if there is one. I welcome them. I'll use this time to sneak them whatever I'm eating in abundance, something I wouldn't normally do with others around. I'll use it to really let them know I care and show them true, undivided attention for a lengthy period of time. Even more than I already do during the day. If someone comes down, it depends what they do. If they turn a light on, I'll disperse. If they see me in the dark, and concede, I'll hang with them in the dark. By doing so, they've agreed to live in my world. 

    So, here I am, eating two sandwiches, leaning up in the corner of my kitchen in the dark. Listening to my watch tick, tick, tick. Listenng to the outdoors. Listening to the sounds of the night, the darkness. I use this time to reflect. To really think. Because in these moments, I am truly by myself. No distractions, other than the ones I choose. 

     But it can't last forever. Back to the room.