The City at night smells like memory & life to her.
Only in the right places, of course.
It smells like youth, like fantasies of endless abandon.
Especially when it has just rained.
She does not know the names of the chemicals & materials that constitute this smell. She knows only the reason why it excites her:
Once, a long time ago, she would roam luminescent concrete pathways like these & she was free.
Liberated from the wrong kind of eyes & noise, she found herself in a forbidden reality; a place where rules were different, where she had just enough money & friends to create a sense of excitement…
Now she is older,
& freedom has gone.
Somehow all those nights came to an end & she was left with nothing but soft-edged memories.
Unable to keep hold of all the little details, the beginning has become only the fragment of a dream.
obligation replaced attachment
& left her with this feeling:
a feeling of distance,
the strange sensation that she is not what she once was, the she is lost & always was.
Reason has fallen.
Yet stubbornly she still clings to something she cannot explain…
“…we all have dead & dying hopes & beliefs scattered about our feet…
but I refuse to believe that we cannot find the strength
to bury them;
that one day we will
find the strength
to begin again.
Fuck you if you don’t believe;
just watch me.”