Cascades of New Sun

Cascaded by the color yellow. I say cascade because 4:30 pm feels like a waterfall of light. It seems overwhelming; it's when my mind is at its busiest. Bouncing thoughts. All incomplete but full. Jumping points into the chaos. Mornings feel blue. Or maybe a light pink. Something soft, whose cold feels warm. The walks along Main street at 7:00 am are of a different existence. The wind blows so harshly that you're ten times more thankful for your mask, even though you're stuck inhaling the monster that is your morning breath.


But despite it all, the horizons on the street are so soft at this hour. You find yourself smiling at the lyrics of the song that you have on repeat (which is currently "New Sun" by Twiddle). You dance as you walk, not a care in the world about whether or not you look like an idiot to the few that are also out at this early hour. You imagine that they are also in awe, being greeted by the sunrise. New Sun: "there's a new sun rising over that hill and I'm going to follow it wherever it takes me." 


Blue and pink mix together in the hope and anticipation of a new day. When 4:30 comes, the light showers you, and you become one with it. Light is warm. It reminds me that I'm here, exposing my craters. Glistening skin reminds me of all that I carry and all that I will carry. But I've found that I look best in yellow. I'd even go as far as to say that yellow is my color. Not only does this thirteen-dollar sweater look fucking awesome, but I'm finding that the unknown is starting to look good on me. I've feared it for so long that I hadn't realized how much I actually thrive in it. 

I continue to walk along this sidewalk, knowing that my time here will come to a different era. But I now know that I'll find that sunlight in every day... and to follow the New Sun, wherever it takes me.