15.08.15: Saturday, 4.12am.

late night musings by a young girl

15.08.15: Saturday, 4.12am

She slid through the still streets of her suburb; a small smile playing on her ever so slightly stained lips. The crisp but brisk dusk air tickled her bare, bronzed shoulders, causing her to hug herself inwards.

She was a young girl, with a curved chin and long brown hair. Smears of black and brown beneath each of her rounded, green eyes served as a reminder of the night’s festivities.

What an eerie serenity it was, to be surrounded by the houses of occupied beds, she mused. The slumbering inhabitants offered no gaze, no judgment, and no empty smiles. She was free in this small moment. After hours in a darkened room of flashed colour she found a certain steadiness in the white curtain of a streetlight. After being touched and bumped and heated, she felt liberated by the cold space around her. This seemed real to her, this moment. It was the muddled mess of a shared physical closeness mixed with an aloof distance from anything beyond a head nod and a suggestive glance, which was the lie. While the walk faded the effects, she felt a strange disconnected calm as she realised none of it matters. It was simply a bittersweet cocktail of burden and expectancies that if we consume, it will return the favour and engulf us.

She spread her arms out wide accepting the taciturn air letting all her cares transfer into the breeze and float away into nothingness. She let out one, simple laugh, her sweet face turning up towards the shimmering sky, finding both comfort and disturbance in the thought she was nothing but a molecule in a grand conspiracy called life.