'Her' Synaesthesia

In the deep crevices of night, she was wakeful, clawing at the air struck beats of life. A deep trance overcame her, rippling its way through the endless, streaming lights of neon. Her body swelled and flowed, almost weightlessly, escaping the deep. grasping grooves of outstreched arms. She was estranged from this world, new yet unware of the way it pulsed or kicked.

Bare beneath, her estranged soul climbed higher, above her determined frame, ascending a swirling stairwell into the euphoria of her envisioned existence. A synaesthesia of colours bloomed and swirled in her mind, shedding a sharp, disorienting glow on the room she danced in.

Her awkward body moved, yet she left it behind, shaking and shedding it, in trace of the world that her envisioned colours bled and blurred with. As her soul rose higher and higher, the synaesthesia heightened into a golden, dusty purple, which mesmerised her.

She had not heard such profound beats before, nor had she immersed herself in the rich rhythm of this deep world. It was new to her growing existence, helping her truth to emerge from deep inside a part of her that she always carried with her, no matter what form she took.

Below, the colours dropped and scattered across the dancing bodies of a people she distantly knew. A people whose eyes fogged and blurred, staring out into the ether of beat and predictability. Her individuality struck sharply against their indifference, leaving her estranged, yet vividly wakeful in the smoky haze of disconnection.

It was a crowd she stumbled over every passing week during her stay, one that overlooked her, yet woke her spirit. In their ignorant disconnection, she learned to dance deeply, her body and soul merging with the beats and colours of songs she only ever heard at the nightclub.

The more she practised, her mind and body craved the satiation of illuminated dance. This was the name she gave it, a friendly term for the synaesthesia, which seemed to involuntarily kick into effect once her body stroked the bare beats of song.

The idea of being a "Her" had begun to resonate deeply with her in this place. Her sould had begun to feel a saturation and immersion with music that she had never experienced before. She felt abloom, like a feminine spirit and was convinced her learning had become quite advanced.

The artful display of colour glowed across the scattered bodies, fuelling momentum in their movements. Raising her hands high, she conducted their steps, like a symphonic orchestra, watching as they immersed themselves in the euphoric hues of her world.

As the purple glistened deeply, she was the architect of her new world, forging the lines and images of a lighthouse, whose beacons of bright light reached across the unchartered waters. A beam for the disoriented dancers, who waded through the waters of estrangement, seeking a reason for being sucked int0 her new world.

Caught between the lively water currents and the untouchable, dissapeared sea floor, the dancers' bodies unravelled like ribbons of flailing light. Their remnant, intense gazes flooded her colour saturated mind, wake-screaming to be released from the trap of her curious heart.

Closing her eyes, she allowed her hues of synaesthesia to draw their focus toward her, like the lens of a human's video camera. She was a close up in her own colourful world, examined for her authenticity and intentions.

Through the dazzling purple light, she glimpsed fractures of the person, who drank, hugged and danced in the glory of the nightclub. A human, at work with its own kind, discordant from the blurs and hues of life. Just like her, it was a creature, yet a different kind.

As her body began to dissolve, blending and scattering its disused parts amongst the wafting hues, she exhaled. Her original form, as light as the air she stood in, waited for her soul to merge into it again, without the heavy accessories of the human body.

As vibrant as the purple-golden hues, she found herself adrift once more, seeking a new place to saturate into and absorb deeply.