{The audio version slightly differs... Will be edited later on}

The blackout lasted for 63 hours.
We smoked till our throats were hoarse
And drank till we could feel no anger,
Not anymore or at least not for that night.

We started with hopes in our patched pockets
And diminished expectations.

She was never punctual and her heels echoed deeply on the tinted tiles.
Always in a hurry, scarf in the wind, she had but one quality
She could forget you existed for days.

There was no light on that tepid night,
No moon, no freakin stars and the candles went out…
Dark and moist. You could feel perspiration running down your back
Soaking you wet. Like you’d’ve been visited by night terrors
Only with no chills to shudder you by.

It should’ve been easy. Life that is
You only had to be ignorant about stuff
And it would’ve swished before your eyes just like that.
But you had a plane to catch, people to see, places to be,
You had stories to tell and chambers that waited for you to sulk in contemptuous spite.

You had eyes to rip off and skin to scratch, to mare and kiss the pain away.
People to impress and assholes to keep waiting
Nail polish to stack away just in case of emergency and packs of smokes to stash in that horrible purse of yours.
Could you still remember what made you tick back then? What pissed you off? Or why, even in the first place.
Too smart for your own good sake and oh so limited in what to do.
It’s all a matter of perception. That’s what you’d hum at five in the morning while waiting for the alarm watch to go off.

Remember when you told me about Thelon?
You said that’s where God’s from, which was pretty amusing coming from you
Since you’re an agnostic and at the moment, still not in touch with any sort of personal deity.

Geez. We were the talented kids and fun to be around.
Disliked all the others and had preconceived assumptions
We had to deal with paperwork and screwdrivers, had to fix engines and change light bulbs
We had to deal with things of little importance and pay respect to the dearly departed.

By the time the sun rose, we were covered in a fine layer of commiseration.
So tragic and cliché and so many things left to be done and be endured.
She lighted another smoke, inhaled deeply and rubbed her eyes.
Sometimes you need a white night and other times, you should really crash into someone


Snap him out of his stupor.
And buy him a drink.