BY ALICIA GALLAGHER
I wonder if the street lights turn off for anyone else, you know just as they walk underneath it, or is it just me? I’ll be making my way on the pseudo faded brick, crossing the most treacherous of crosswalks, in the dark abyss I call a busy road. And all of a sudden, the street light abruptly stops lighting the way, and I think, Oh great, not again. But why is that? It happens so often to me, I’m beginning to think that it is because of me.
Maybe I’m one of those mediums, you know, one that has extra energy or a brighter aura or some shit surrounding me. Maybe my soul is all-powerful, and other lesser energies fall to their knees and beg for mercy as I gracefully pass by. No, that’s not it. I don’t think I am physically able to be categorized as graceful, but a girl can dream, right?
Maybe it’s some sort of protective checkpoint. As you walk under the light, it isn’t necessary anymore so it just shuts down for a little while. You’ve made it this far you can get to the next one safely. I know you can. But in all honesty, it’s probably one of two things. One: there is a problem with that one fucking light. Or two: the grid randomly chooses to shut off one periodically as a means to save money. Naw, I like my monarchial daydream better.
Or maybe some souls are too dim and need a little bit more help. So, the lights sacrifice their own health for another’s wellbeing, that is to say, this happens to other people. I still haven’t gotten an answer on that. Maybe that’s why I’m so insecure, anxiety-ridden, and angry. I just need a little extra light to get a smile on my face and laugh, finally reaching contentment. Maybe I need to walk under more streetlights.