Carnival

Coming back to the carnival as an adult felt strange and new. I was there for fun but mainly for distraction from the speed of life. There's this idea that up in the air, in between gasping for breath and letting out screams, the thrill will replace the crises inside you. But of the three rides I braved earlier, only the seahorse ride moved me. During the last two rides, notably the last one—tower drop—I was more aware of my blankness. Up in the air, overlooking the vehicles rushing home, my workplace greener in the dusk, and the beautiful sky witness to the gorgeous sunset and the gloomy clouds, I still felt alone. Before every long drop, I experienced episodic melancholia.

Where am I heading next? The moon was high, but not a sight of the brightest star.