Artist:Pony

You burst out of the back door with a laugh and a gasp, choking on the sudden fresh air, stumbling in the sudden free space. For an instant the sound and fury of your recent escapism spills out into the alleyway—a dense cacophony of bass, laughter and breaking glass—then the door slams shut and leaves you alone with the night. It smells like it’s been raining. The black surface of the road glitters a little in the aftermath, a reminder that whilst you’ve been inside losing your friends, losing your mind—life has gone on. It’s four in the morning and the story is not over yet. With the protective bubble-wrap of oblivion suddenly ripped away every heartache and headache in your life comes rushing back, threatening to consume you. You start walking, trying to stay ahead of yourself. As you pace the streets bright neon signs flash on the edge of your vision, vying for your attention, loud and electrified reminders of all the lives you’re not yet living, temptations towards roads not ...