and bridges and illuminated buildings. a throwback.
sitting here by the windowsill, on a huge bean bag i bought last week -- listening to Damien Rice's Grey Room after finishing an episode of the Criminal Minds. read Edgar Allan's Poe The Tell-Tale Heart this afternoon, and i can't remember the last time i read something so gripping and raw. i could spend so many days doing this -- all at once, over and over again.
we were back in our hotel room, had a long bath and a few sips of wine when Ken said, let's go out and see the night lights. by the riverside. i was ready to settle and make a nest out of the crisp bed sheets and call it a day but couldn't say no to that, never say no to a little adventure, ever. i thought of the lonely little bars, huge trees and the cool night breeze. i thought, tomorrow night, i won't be here anymore.
the trees, so beautiful, huge and bright. there weren't much car, this little old town is rather quiet at night. buzzing with people walking around, but quiet. suppose we made it back in time, before the rain pours. i guess people knew that, stuck in the traffic, in the rain, after work? i wouldn't be out too! good thing we were on foot.
right at the end of the walkway, where the river meets the sea, stood this gorgeous hotel. next time, perhaps we'll stay here. there were people sitting outside, windswept hair and something nice playing on the stereo. we didn't stop by, dinner was done with and we had two bottles of wine to enjoy when we're back in the hotel room.
there are lots to ponder on when you walk around in the dark, watching night lights reflect on the water and boats go by every few minutes or so. quiet thoughts, and checking with your palms up, for rain drops, any minute now -- you could smell it in the air. gone were the mid-nights drinking with the girlfriends, on the dance floor, heels screaming sore. gone were the days when everything's moving on the fast lane, never taking the time to let it all sink. though some things in life may change. some things, they stay the same.
Nothing unusual, nothing strange
Close to nothing at all
The same old scenario, the same old rain
And there's no explosions here
Then something unusual, something strange
Comes from nothing at all
I saw a spaceship fly by your window
Did you see it disappear?
-- Damien Rice, Amie