Gatsby had the green light.
i had the lights all down bourbon street. i had the howls of passersby and the blare of bar music. i had the sweet autumn air and the cobblestone under my boot heels, so that for a few beautiful nights i lived in the past, present, and future. for a few sacred days i transcended my own soul, poured my guts into a storm drain on the corner of Chartres and ground my bones into fine powder for the sake of the city.
i sang without saying a word. i danced without moving.