Fading memories of a discontinuous past

For sure, as I was waiting for my bus last Sunday, in that creepy underground international bus station at the east of Paris, a beautiful sight caught my eye:

Two goth lovers, young
Leave tonight for Germany
Alone in the crowd.

They literally caught my eye, glancing in my direction every now and then — as if they were sensing how much strangers among strangers we were. As my bus was leaving, I was looking at theirs, hoping that I’d see them for a last time… And then as I drifted into sleep the memory faded.

I was smiling when I got back home at 6 in the morning on Monday.

Yesterday evening, I was jumping with the crowd at the weird sounds of Patrick Wolf. This show was a masterpiece — one of the two main reasons for my presence at Lowlands this year. The other was a performance by a Dutch ochestra — the show is called Games In Concert and it is about themes from video games.

I was smiling as I was watching the stars from my tent yesterday evening.

“A smile sticked to my lips” — these are the words I was thinking about, borrowing them from a friend from Denmark.

Spending three days at Lowlands was like a vacation. Three days of music, three days away from the city, three days without thinking about work, computers or the Internet, three days of discovery — I went there to discover new bands, new music styles, and I got just that. What a bright mid-summer!

Yet I didn’t take any pictures, and my memories are fading already. Would I believe that I was there if my wristband was not left as a witness?

As I was jumping in the crowd yesterday, a spectator next to me was rather quiet, enjoying the show without moving. He wasn’t jumping, clasping his hands or singing along, as most of us were doing. A stranger in the crowd, as it seemed — until I saw him embracing his boyfriend during The Stars.

Love persists in memories.