i stand on the asphalt ground of the carpark, pausing in my steps for a moment, turning to see the taxi taillights disappear behind the shadowy trees. it is early morning here and now, and late too; in less than two hours, the sun will paint the world where i am. the air is fresh and dewy and cooling, it is quiet and i am alone, here and now.
i think it was the smokey darkness, and the drinks, and the camaraderie that did it. the brief Hellos and Goodbyes, the smiles, the laughter, the jokes, the teasing, the outrageous costumes, the drinking, the touching, the talking, the hazy air in the bar, the photo-taking, the games. things are simple, even superficial, when i think about it, so why, what is this that i am feeling, here and now?
has it really been that long since i last smiled, truly smiled? my melancholy – some said it is beautiful in its own way, kind of poetic and a little tragic – it closes me in and walls people out. recently it has been self-destructive; emotions eating into me, bleeding me, strangling me, killing me. have i, for far too long, been living in the past yet attempting to run towards the quicksand of the future, and hurting the here and now? time seems to be an infinite continuum tunnel, which i am constantly trying to escape from.
but for now time trickles to a stop, and my life, with all its turbulent emotions and volatile frustrations and silent despair, all these, they do not matter. this is my time, here and now, a moment for myself. the shadows of the night smooth out all my red raw and tattered edges, draping silk over twisted torn petals. i am strangely calm.
and as i stand, engulfed in the night’s darkness, gently caressed by the light mist that has settled, i realised i am happy – here and now – even if it is only for a while.