And I’m still glowing form the amber of the night that White Night was.
Familiar faces in the sea of people. Random people floating by. Friendly exchanges.
The city is thumping. The city is throbbing. And the mass just heaves through it like it’s business as usual.
But nothing is as usual.
Dancehall, swing dancing and the odd saxophones. All that jazz! Electro music! Tribal fusion!
So much people looking for connection through so many mediums and never realising that they’re almost there.
I watch people as they watch others who are too busy watching.
And so we watch lives unfold and fold back into itself in a continuous unwavering dance.
But there are still ones who are too busy capturing memories to even notice that life is slowly slipping underneath their very soles.
Their smart intelligent phones up in the air taking videos of all the living.
What are they going to do with all that footage, I wonder?
Are they to be trapped in a dusty folder in the midst of a million other bytes?
Or will they have their fair share of their air time when their owners reminisce of a hot summer night in Melbourne when the city was white.
And the people were techni-color.
Run after the things that amuse you, run for your life.
But never. never for once, take an hour long footage of the beauty unfolding in front of your eyes for they are never the same, twice around.