revelations

Last night I went on my perpetual, untiring but tried and tested routine: the business of clubbing. I walked into the club and spotted my friends through a haze of intoxicating smoke. It had the makings of a great night, me with a buzz that was already rolling (courtesy of 11.5% alcohol content beer, take note alcoholics. I said 11.5%! Yes Shangri-La exists!!!), close friends and promises of good music and alcohol (glinting beautifully in glamorous bottles).

Instead, I got bored. So, in these situations, what must one do? What is the most sensible thing to do? Yes, one must drag a friend away from there and go to a better club. So my friend and I went to China Black. R 'n' B music, loads and loads of eye candy and a free flow of beer, tequila, vodka, bacardi and bourbon: things were looking up.

So, after a couple of hours, my friend and I decided to sit down and take a breather, or as much of a breather you can take in a club with a fag in one hand and a drink in the other. So alcohol took its toll on me and my mind became pretty sluggish. My friend bends over then and whispers in my ear. To my utter horror I recoil completely. Disbelief rocks my drunken system, an ugly crack amidst a veneer of invincibility. I feel rockets of pain travel through my head, in synch with the pulsing music and suddenly I can't stop crying. The words that were whispered, such heavy, important and responsible words explain a lot to me and my crying is a release. A release of energy that is necessary as I reach out there to find something something has never been found before. A reason, some sort of sanity that would put my mind at ease, but it never comes.