top of page

Non-stop dancing

Maybe it’s the easter egg sugar overload, the excitement of the first sunshine in the city or the Turkish psychedelic music, but last week was one of non-stop dancing. Twirling skirts around hard enough to capture the night in its soft fabric. I tried to but I couldn’t keep myself from doing four things:

  1. Waking up feeling hungover, the painful reminder I’m not nineteen anymore

  2. Being late for work, where most of the dancing happened

  3. Losing my voice, because I yelled it all out (festivals do that to me)

  4. Texting the boy, drunkenly, with a flash of regret and awkward eyes avoiding contact the next day

Ah! Still, I love the impulsive things. What makes my heart beat in my throat, no thoughts of what will follow, just what moves my body more. Musical orgasms of losing yourself in a song’s ecstasy. Next thing you know, you’re booking tickets to Paris because you’re on a guest list. Infatuation gets you high. Your feet stopped touching the ground a long time ago. Riding that wave of no tomorrow, only tonight. Starry skies or city lights?

Birds singing, telling you it’s time to go home.

30 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page