((maybe one day I'll do something with this...))
Sometimes I go to the club with earphones on just to watch the lights flash to the sound of classical music. The beat still shifts up my legs and people still move at their accelerated speed around me. It’s like running through a field of bodies pressed up in the desire to press closer. They need to be something more than what they are. Somehow the repetitive lyrics and inane thoughts behind the songs seem out of place. Yet without them this place wouldn’t exist.
My eyes glaze as I stand in a corner shadowed from the strobe light. A man beside me lifts a cigarette to his lips and breathes. I wonder why he came to the club, if he intended to stand in the corner. I wonder if he was wondering the same about me.The lights shift and I’m the only one who isn’t sure if it was random or if the song changed.
((The eventual theme was: contact high))
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