There is madness on the streets. Revolution, or something like it. The noises reverberate through the walls in my room, the distant cheers, resounding screams. These are the sounds of long-anticipated victory.

Outside my window, there is a large group of girls, and because of the darkness, it is difficult to discern who they are, but they are hugging. There is some sort of connection. They may be very old friends, or they may have just met one another at the pub, but tonight, tonight it doesn't matter... tonight.

For a moment, I want to be out there, running around, screaming like a lunatic, and yet.. I am too sober, too serious, and maybe even too cynical. Sipping my tea quietly, I wonder about false revolutions. I worry about false messiahs.

What does it feel like to let go, for even a minute? To be carefree and spontaneous? It must be a whole different world out there, beyond this apartment.