I feel as though I’m in a dream, where strange things are happening but they don’t feel strange. Everything is cloudy-everything is wrapped in a fog-and I’m filled from head to toe with the single, burning desire to get closer to the music, to hear the music better, for the music to go on and on and on.
This world was made to be cloaked in gray.
It wouldn’t feel natural if the sun shone brightly all the time.
The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me.
It’s super cloudy right now but I think I can see the northern lights from my room. Another observation: Every light is a strobe light, if you just blink fast enough, and drink enough vodka.
-Karen Quan and Jarod Kintz
Starlight beats when heart twinkles
Youthful sky beyond cloudy wrinkles
Muse of glory to flame the night
Verse inscribed as written light
Friends are like the stars that glow in the sky… you don’t always see them, but you know they’re always there overhead, and even when it’s cloudy, snowy or stormy, even when the power goes out and you’re trapped in darkness, they’ll always find a way to shine through to you.