With the end of summer, my favourite Brussels festival comes around. Hidden in the dark of the beautiful Royal Park is a stage adorned in fairy lights. Sweet tunes roam between the trees, bringing your ears to tears of joy, your blood boiling to move. Palms sweating, feet itching to dance in the dust. Dancing is most fun under stars and trees. Even in the city I call my home, I can have that ultimate feeling of getting lost in music, crowds, dance.
Wine flowing freely, friends surprise kissing me, we twirl around so the dust won’t settle, will never come down. We’ll never come down. Music takes me so high, I’ve been riding this wave all week. I’m still riding as we speak. Trying to ignore the signs of autumn clearly taking over the city, I dance away the night hours until the morning light brings me tiny eyes and a big cup of coffee to hide behind.
Goodmorning.
Goodnight.