JUST ANOTHER LONESOME NIGHT
Hitting the unending stretch of cigarette and boozing on a thirsty glass of alcohol while wandering along the darkness of this infinite motel corridor. Passing by hundreds of door, all are closed with cold knobs locked, each room occupied by fulfilling emptiness. My shadow hides along the dusty carpets laden on the floor. I slither my fingers on the wall, feeling each sides, each dimensions, each details all well recognized. The bar music, the noise, the screeching all well memorized. Just like this drunkenness of mine, the familiar feeling I always have.
But tonight? Tonight was different.
Guitar strings pulled up a different chord. Basses hit new lows. Drums went on off beat. The whole melody resounds on the unfamiliar pathways around the corner of the bar. I heard it resonating at the back of my ears, whispering to me at a different tone, at a language I used to speak. I heard it. I knew it. I understood it very well.
I followed it at the bar, night lights cover the space. Strobe lights dances with strangers at the dance floor, bodies touch each other, so close in and against themselves. Sweats scratching down from bodies to bodies as their lips collided intensely, an exchange of fluid, of lust but never of meaning. Heat flows through their bodies but never appealed their heart, remaining cold, silent, dead.
I walk past against the scrawling crowd, like a paddle pulling at different direction against the devouring sea, sailing against frail winds blowing. Like a blind man running across the street of sightless people with ears not hearing their vexatious loudness. But my deaf senses can only hear one music that guided me towards itself.
I saw you, the man of music, the player of strings. He stared at me, keen and straight-forward. He walked closer to me, I moved forward at him, with our lips and noses so close. He took my hand and whispered to me an offer: A freedom from the night. A man of his intentions are clear, a man of his words are pure. Never did I imagined someone on this unimaginable somewhere. His eyes were so clear, it contrasted the haziness around.
His soul shines, I have none. His heart beats, mine does not. He is a man of music, the player of strings. I am only a part of the crowd, dispensable and non-existential. I looked at the ocean at my back, this is where I belong, but he has greater place outside this bar. He has dreams to struggle but I have only this night to dance.
So before he kiss me and take me out of this place, I disappeared along the vast ocean of the crowd. I thought I saw a piece of jewel to keep, but the stones are too valuable for mine to have.
And so the night went on, the lights flashed out, the noise continued but never that familiar music did play again. And I, alone once more in this cold, hasty bar, drank whats left on my cup, with nothing left to have except this unlighted cigarette and just another lonesome night…
