“miserable faces“

under a strong full day moon, not sure what that is meant to mean, but surely something has been affixed to said phenomena, somewhere in the past, but it just does not grasp at me, just a curiosity, tonight, this time in between, a dark regal blue presides over the transition before utter night, faint outlines and ridges of clouds, still in sight, oddly there is no barking or chirping or any animal sounds for that matter, maybe the full moon has their collective tongue as well, my neighbor’s front door cracks open audibly, a neighbor I do not speak to, really, just a close stranger, five years or more, he used to have a little girl, and a smile, all that is a mystery now, history now, I see just deliveries from local grub stations at all manners of times, or at least as I have observed when sitting out here, different cars in and out of the driveway, but always just he remains, how strange, just across the street, some few hundred feet, a completely different realm of daily existence I know nothing about, a different world with different views and different rules, I can not say I have ever seen him smile in many long a time, I am sure he must have, so hard to gauge a story from what reads like miles away, his face reminds me of a thought, a thought that crossed my mind earlier as I drove home from the grocer, I am making that same left turn I have made a thousand times, and my lights struck pure in the eyes, the face of the driver in the other lane, just the sheer look of down, a complete crown of misery befallen, a hallow expression, depression
a miserable face
but why, there are plenty of reasons I suppose, I suspect, but how many are valid in true retrospect, and so I pay mind, and encounter more, dour and puss, the miserable faces are like a parade of intermittent misery, like gloomy potholes dotting the road back to my sanctuary, the why, I ponder the whys forever, is it easier to raise that foul flag and plant it smartly, like a shield, an outlier, a boundary marker, a warning against trespass, a way to wall off the world to exist in your own little version, at least for a while, so I must then ask, upon this observation…
do I myself don this mask?
and not even realize that I compromise a part in this charade of misery infecting the world, am I one of those miserable faces at times, I wish it not to be so, but I can not guaranty same, I wish not to be so, so I just remain vigilant as to what my face says to the world, as it also reflects the inner workings of my own, I hope I can bear hope out with my countenance, love with my eyes, joy with my words, understanding with my ears, knowing sometimes, we allow ourselves to slip into that night, that comforting solace, a familiar grimace, spines thrust out to all approach, but to recognize the time, the purple time, to see the line between, to fight our very nature, to hold back and remember, rebel against, the miserable faces, for dawn is always on the other side.

notes… part of a series, or my life, or both, something like that, I appreciate the read, yout thoughts, your life, and all that, I really do, why else am I stranded here on this marble .. but you ?