Living in shadows is not what we do. Living in light is what we do.
There’s a bar around the corner. The stars refract through your eyes as though you can see nothing else. People wander the streets, along fifth avenue, as the clock strikes 11:27. The air seems figurative because your friend’s voices drift aimlessly while walking hand in hand.
He holds the door open so that you can stumble through another person’s entrance and drink, although, later on, you go back to your apartment and sit on the counter, not wanting to lose what you’ve gained.
But then the phone rings from across the room, so you answer, and go back onto the streets with ten other people, knowing that nothing lasts and they will break.
Eventually the night turns to a glossed-over vision of something you used to know, and you regret nothing since it all depended on the music, the flight, the drink, and the love you tried to figure out as a young individual.
It wasn’t long ago that you danced in the rain, or sang in the basement. You can capture it, still. The time hits ’27 every night, when party life awakes. Even though you feel lost in the terms and in a world fit for another, you can slip away to a beautiful place, written within the folds of endless dreams.
So you take the keys, find those you loved and traveled with, and easily lift a veil no one else can lift for you.
Never lose the one you treasure most. The one you call yourself. You shouldn’t be worried about anything more than your smile being the brightest among the crowd.