All day I had been craving an opportunity to stretch my legs, however, all day I was glued to the empty comfort of my bed and the TV, occupying my mind and keeping me sane as much as modern media can. Eventually, the clock hands reached midnight and the walk that I had promised myself seemed to be just another unsatisfied dream.
Outside of my window, monolithic streetlights illuminate the familiar unknown outside, shadows always still remaining among the bright lights. Despite what every parent tells their child about late nights and being alone, I left my room, said good night to my parents and walked out of my front door with music in my ears again.
A few minutes walk from my house, over two bridges and through a forest-like redway resides a serene lake, only disturbed by a bustling dual carriageway a couple hundred metres beyond the trees. I decided to take the long way around to the park on the other side, hidden behind a remote, overgrown island sitting lonely among the reeds and water around it. I am ‘taking it slow’ just like Fazerdaze is telling me through her calm melody in my ears. I find it so strange that no one around me wants to communicate with me and yet a twenty-something from New Zealand graces my ears through music. I don’t think that I could survive a single day without the connection music offers me when I have such a lack in my personal life, and that is not through a lack of trying to connect with people. I just seem to be completely invisible.
When I reached the park, I couldn’t help but feel like a part of my childhood had died when I found that the wooden, busted up, crimson band stand shelter had disappeared. The innocent memories that belonged to that rotten and graffitied wood will never be as colourful as they once were. Now those memories have been reduced to shadow that only a few in this world will remember and all that is left physically is a raised, concrete circle upon the hill it was built on, surrounded by the bushed and trees I used to run and hide in as a child.
Even with the loss of this testament to my youth, the view from the hill still had not changed. The lake can still be seen over the reeds and through the trees and dull streetlights give light to the circumference to the park. I took the steps up to where the band stand once stood and standing upon the circular grave to this place, with nostalgia in my heart and a beat in my veins, I gazed around me to make sure that I was alone. Duke Dumont’s ‘Ocean Drive’ fills my ears and my right foot started to tap the concrete. Next thing I know, I was dancing for the next two songs on the hill, all alone in the midnight moonlight glistening in the dark sky. Now you may not know this but I absolutely suck at dancing, I am probably not even worth dancing in a club level and I was technically in public, but in the early hours of the morning, there wasn’t another soul to be seen so I had my fun and then danced the whole way home too.
The path home was significantly darker than earlier on in my journey; the trees leaned in on me and blocked out the moonlight and the reflection upon the water. With nothing but a beat and voice filling my ears, I had no fear dancing through the wilderness on my way home. I just couldn’t help myself. I had never danced outside before and it is one hundred percent something that I will recommend right now. It was one night to remember.
Much love from your friend,