If You Knew What I Knew

Surreal, the way the world is. Strands of reality intertwined with fantasy, and so easy to confuse which is which.

My actions seem like a parallel of the truth, or is my truth a reflection of my actions. It feels real, but not, but real. The steps I take match my heartbeat, to the beat of the kompang. The walk down with the man who keeps my heart, with the train of people who will acommpany this procession to the stage.

It is a celebration.

It is a wedding.

I am struck at how public it is, at how the people on the streets of Melbourne stop to look and stare at the colourful costumes, the bunga mangga, the rhythm of the kompang. I am amused to realise that both he and I are the centre of attention, amused that I did not quite realise the implications of our actions. Poignant, but emotion is laced with irony and secrets are secrets.

Here is our love on display, for the whole of Melbourne, and ironically among strangers that we have never known and will probably never see again.

Surreal, how the world it. And the strands of fantasy will slowly break and leave behind the truth. But even that is hidden.