Proof Of Life
I must be undead. Or whatever state of existence comes after too many late nights, a lot of wrong decisions and a complete disregard for what medical professionals would probably describe as healthy living.
I don’t know if it’s physical, psychological, spiritual, or simply the inevitable result of spending too much time awake after midnight, but lately I keep ending up surrounded by vampires, creatures of the night, and various other beings who seem completely unfamiliar with daylight.
Last night at Valmoor was no exception. A familiar destination, yet somehow different from usual. The vampires were out in force, but so were the meatbags, as they like to call the fully functioning humans. And to be fair, every one of them looked incredible. Whatever side of existence they belonged to, they had dressed for the darkness with poise.
As the night went on, I found myself asking questions I wasn’t equipped to answer. Were we alive? Were we dead? Was this Valmoor, or some afterlife recreation of it? A place built from memory and basslines? DJ Lili kept the music coming like a heartbeat, steady and relentless, which seemed like evidence in favor of life. Then again, maybe the dead dance too. Maybe that’s the whole point. The longer I stayed, the less certain I became.
Perhaps we don’t really exist at all. Perhaps we’re only the photographs. Brief flashes of light, captured for a moment before disappearing back into whatever darkness we came from.
You can decide for yourself. I need some sleep.
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This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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