I am forever lost in the memory of dark city streets.
They come to me in song, the rhythm coursing through my bones and whispers of lyrics tickling at my ears. My eyes would close, darkness engulfing me, and with my hands in my pockets, I would let myself relive every minute spent basked in it; the memories and emotions attached to each verse flashing before me in bright colours.
It’s still so vivid: the cobbled paths and neon street lamps being our only source of light. The sky was ink black as the stars hid behind patchy clouds, what was beyond now relying on our imagination.
I can still remember the few scattered figures left on those dark streets: short and tall; wide and thin. Some even came in groups. I had pondered their thoughts. What universe of emotions were they floating in? What shelf of hardships were they sifting through? Their blank faces showed no hint of life.
Maybe they had been seeking something: the flame to their match or the ghost of their other half, painfully sundered. Perhaps sometime in the past, someone had taken a knife, sharp and shining, slicing through the intersection where soul meets soul, leaving nothing but an empty heart, lost of navigation.
Maybe what Aristophanes said was true: we are forever wanderers, in search of the one that fills our flaming desires. It could have been that these people, straying like zombies in the shadows, were severed from the one they loved as their sinking hearts beat painfully, drained of passion. Behind their hollow expressions, they may have been desperately fighting a game of life or death, fumbling to rescue the reminders of their companion’s warmth from inevitable deaths as they threaten to topple off the cliff that is memories. I know this feeling, though I have never truly experienced it: like struggling to grasp something but only ever grazing the surface.
I then looked away from these lost spirits.
I remember stopping then and standing still. I realised I was just a passerby, a side character observing as the world rotated around its gears. Yet despite this, I still felt as if I were the one pulling the strings, conducting this play of life, baton warm in my hand. I guess it was just an illusion.
Soft breezes had caressed my face, pulsating bright pink; the cold slipping through my body. Small clouds formed in front of my face, obscuring my sight. Tall towers, the glow of artificial lights, and the soft echo of engines; the city had been in its prime state of serenity, or at least my definition of it.
As I had stared at the city lights beating down on the frozen pavement, a feeling rose within me. It was like a build-up to a chorus, where a symphony of instruments floated as one, then divided to carry their own story. It ignited like a flower blooming to meet the sun’s touch, hungry for the morning light that greeted it. It was a feeling of acknowledging, of knowing that you are human, capable of emotion and movement; that you are present on this Earth and not just a masked figure drifting aimlessly through the fog of solitude. It was understanding that you are here, alive in this very moment and not letting the tide of life suffocate you till oblivion.
My eyes twinkled at the sight of the city: covered in such dullness, yet producing such passion. At that moment, no longer was the enveloping cold suffocating me, bearing its talons of ice, but instead welcoming me in its embrace. The breeze wrapped around me, its touch like the curve of a palm. My heart wasn’t beating fervently, nor was there any rapid rhythm to follow closely. Like a chick snuggled in the warmth of its mother’s feathers, I felt safe.
That’s when the eternal bliss rose, like fire flickering. But it is wrong to describe it as fire since it was never truly that. It was instead the sparks that came along with it: present yet fleeting. In a moment’s time, that warmth returned to its original state of empty bitterness; the petals beginning to close in on itself, the bubbly feeling ebbing away. It had gone by too quickly. There wasn’t enough time to grasp it, to cling to it. I had lost it the moment it came. It had crumbled to ash, falling through my fingertips with no sign of retrieval.
And so I wait here, chasing for that same feeling to reignite, to feel my blood electrify and the petals of my heart start to bloom. I am intoxicated, dizzy with desire. I cling to the warmth that leaves me barren, for at that very moment, I swear, I was infinite.