>All-night Nights in All-night Diners

>Let's you and I stay up all night long, watch as patterns emerge on the walls and whet our appetites for good conversation over coffee and talks in parking lots. Let's be as comfortable talking about nothing as we are talking about something, and let's be comfortable enough saying nothing to justify thoughtful breaks in the streams of words that are separated by sips from our scalding hot beverages. Let's discuss the incomers and outgoers and speculate as to why they are up at this absurd hour of the day and possibly wonder if they think the same about us. Let's get to know the woman behind the counter who has stopped asking if we want refills and gives them to us anyway, and ask her why she has a sad look in her eyes and ask if there's anything we can pray with her about. Let's be prepared to be slapped in the face and shot down and spat upon and insulted and turned on and let's be ready to back up what we asked and bow our heads or comfort or celebrate or be blessed by her words, because asking somebody such a powerful question can only elicit powerful answers.

Let's get in the car and drive to nowhere at all, knowing that we'll not be surprised when we drive up on an epiphany. Let's burn a mixed cd that suits our moody whimsies of the journey and can be enjoyed at full volume as much as simply background music to the words we speak. Let's be comfortable enough that if the other wants to drive for a while there are no questions asked and nothing done begrudgingly, but let the passenger become comfortable with letting somebody other than themselves take the reigns. Let's talk about how this idea relates back to God and have a moment of silence that is filled with the sound of our brains attempting to wrap themselves around the fact that the One that created all of the stars we see above us wants nothing more than who you are at that moment in time, and each successive moment after that that much more. Let's discuss love and hate and destiny and fate and why smiling is so much easier than frowning and if bees have lungs and if they don't have lungs why they don't just fly out into everlasting solitude and silence and peace in the depths of space rather than buzzing around here and getting swatted at.
Let's you and I stay up all night long and long for the next time we can.

Hamilton Barber

The subject of this page is an introverted writer/musician/lunatic from Chattanooga, TN who dabbles in lexical dexterity, unorthodox thoughts on prosperity, and being overwhelmingly undeserving of the privilege of waking up every day. He hopes that everybody who reads these words takes them to heart and leaps higher than he ever could. He reads, thinks, and speaks too much; he listens, works, and loves too little; and he says “I” entirely too often. The words on these pages are not his: they are the words that were given to him.