a roadtrip to somewhere,
just so we could watch a meteor shower.
we didn't even know exactly where to go,
only that we wanted to watch the shooting stars without the city's glow.
at first adrenaline filled our somber and tired selves;
we were all fueled with the idea of seeing something magical at twelve.
then came the rush of being lost in lonely, secluded roads.
suddenly we realized, this trip, to our parents we should've told.
whose is that car parked at the other side of the highway?
were they here even before we stopped to look at the meteors fall away?
should we flee or should we stay?
i don't want this to be our last day.
oh god please help us
we're running out of gas
and just as we are consumed with panic,
and fear of strangers in places, dark and exotic
we drive back to the city,
where the people are awake and much less creepy.
when the lamposts became brighter,
and the surroundings no longer sinister,
where the stars we so longed for became much hazier,
we simply laughed at our cowardice,
and at our overly-hightened suspiciousness.
as dull, yet terrifying the world can be,
even with rare astronomical phenomenas that are oh so sightly,
adventures are really, no less scary.
yet everything can still feel mesmerizing,
and even reassuring,
so long as you are able to find just the right company.
081217. A late night roadtrip with my friends turned into cinematic adventures. I'm glad we're all safe now.
