MOLDE founder Chisomaga’s prose piece “m1dnight drive” is a beautiful stream of consciousness with vivid imagery and a racy intent to the description of a psychoactive proposal. Some of the subtleties & wholesome lines in this piece evoke a warm & familiar feeling, as exposed in the sentence, “we continued on and hoped we would get home on time. but I’m always home with her.” as well as, “we didn’t go out until late at night but that’s alright because the night is always more magical anyway.” Such lines have an undemanding sense of simplicity. immerse below & read more here.
I’m crying but I don’t even know why anymore. my heart is heavy like when she, not her, crossed me that time. that was painful – felt like I couldn’t breathe. trapped even outside, continuous claustrophobia everywhere I went. the feeling was like getting choked all the time, you know? had me locked up inside myself for longer than I ever wanted. had me running from mirrors for too damn long until I walked through time stretching like a desert. then I stumbled across the most gorgeous sweet oasis – her, you know? the water was cool and relaxed. you never know how great water is until you’re devoid of it. then it started expanding. the oasis became a lake then a sea then a complete endless flow of soothing streams of oceans from eternity to infinity.
the wind is blowing heavy over my head right now and it’s a little hard to breathe properly. the top is down, I’m driving in this cool-ass BMW, black sheen like a dark lake with strokes of the amber streetlights bouncing off its big body. I love this engine. forgot it’s make, though. does that matter? who cares? the growl is all that matters, you know. I love engines like that, like this, like a wild animal is hidden in the hood of the car and it’s smelling its prey outside lingering and the hunger gets too much for it and then boom it’s pouncing – until I got to change gear. should’ve driven automatic.
I’m gonna marry her tonight. I’ve got to marry her tonight. you see, I have to because otherwise I’d explode with this great grand multicoloured fire made of flowers and dust inside me. it’s not because of our trip we went on to Rome that time, no. Paris was an option but we missed that flight; I never liked the French too much anyway. but I won’t forget that trip, you know I won’t, she knows I won’t. the blanket of warmth from Italian sun felt weird on a black boy’s skin. the brown was dark and I felt like a natural treasure of some kind, like a rare ivy or jewel and I am, yes I am. we were in our villa room that time – we were lucky we got it cheap – and there was a plastic plant in the bathroom. she wondered why she always took longer when she showered with me but she said nothing when we stared at each other in the wide mirror like we’re artwork at galleries. a little wind whispered over our tanned skin and there came those bumps as the sensation flowed over and through us like lightning clouds. we didn’t go out until late at night but that’s alright because the night is always more magical anyway. we wandered rolling hills. guided by nothing but scattered lights in the darkness, we continued on and hoped we would get home on time. but I’m always home with her.
right now, I’m driving down this motorway alone. alone. completely. there are no other cars driving. I’ve forgotten what time it is and I’m rolling through, straight and onwards, travelling from interlude of light to interlude of pool of amber light. I’ve got on that tuxedo she loved that time we window shopped in Tokyo at midnight. the fit is a bit awkward so I haven’t got the bow tie on right now but I’ll withstand the discomfort for an eternity of sacred joy with her. we never went into the store and we passed it on a whim but I saw myself in the reflection and I knew, just knew, that this was it, you know? so three months and a two-way ticket later and I’m stuffing an expensive tuxedo into a black suitcase. I’m gonna go back there, though, the lights are too great. it was like they’ve digitalised rainbows and installed it into their city. that’s what she said, and to be honest she isn’t wrong. there’s a familiarity with Tokyo, feels like I’ve been here before. like I’ve always been here in some other dimension or something. or maybe it’s just the LSD – a rabbit running recklessly.
down the slip road now and I’m just twenty minutes out from her. tapping myself down, I feel the ring box in my inner pocket. okay, I’ve got it. nerves? sure. but this is necessary – it’s not just random, you know? shut up, don’t try to reason with me. I’m aware of what I’m doing. I’m aware of my age but I’ve seen a lot. we’ve seen a lot together. we saw three kids all probably around fifteen take shrooms in a forest in Jamaica some years ago who would end up in hospital after. we thought about that. we could’ve prevented that. we could’ve changed that and made a difference. we simply watched, though. and to be honest with you? that’s not enough. it’s not enough to watch as life happens around you anymore whilst you do nothing to change it. what can you do right now? so that’s me, I suppose. that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m driving to my baby wherever she is, with whoever she is and I’m going for her. for her. eternity and forever more. ahahaha. we used to joke like that, smoking weed around a fire with the locals in that Jamaican town. felt good to drink juices from real fruit. felt good to sweat and whatever else humans do. we rejected hotels – we wanted to experience real life. we’d had enough of facades. I take off all shells with her and then I’m vulnerable. so weird how that was my weakness some time ago. now it’s my strength and it’s the strength that led me to get into this beast, growling and ripping up the road on my way to see my baby. I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to do this.
hey, what’s your fear? okay, yeah sure, who cares? haha. the funny thing is that it’s only your fear because you call it that. you’re stronger than you think, man. trust me. or don’t. I don’t care because right about now, it’s some time in the early morning or late night. the sun will come up from behind in a hue of baby blue and sweet yellow and orange. I’ll be on my knee with her hand in mine, sliding a ring on. I’ve taken some drugs but yo, that’s alright because it’s all going to be okay.