The lights of the dance cave shone brightly over me. Dancing in the middle: Hair dripping, hands up, oblivious to the world around me. It is these evenings of pure isolated musical escapism, that you can just feel so alone in a crowded place. The ease placed on your mind as you swerve towards the sounds of the early eighties. David Bowie and Queen? Always.
Surrounded by Nat, Witt and Americano, we dance…carefree, and consumed by the rhythm. With the turn of my head, I spot the wandering eyes of the predators searching for their next prey. Clubs can easily be compared to the African Savannah. Looking at the watering hole you see the typical slow and un-expecting Gazelle being preyed upon the wandering eyes of the lions and wild dogs ready to attack.
Sometimes these wild dogs can fancy more than just the typical blond haired gazelle.
Looking up, I see this creature lean up against Americano. Excuse me? What is this dog in a pork pie doing hitting on Americano? Dismissive and coy as ever, Americano pushes this creature aside.
The one thing that bothers me more than anything, is my boyfriend getting hit on in public places. It happens all the time. Standing beside him, I honestly feel like a piece of chopped liver.
What do I have to do? Hang a sign above his head that explicitly states that he is taken, or do I let the guy in the dreadful fedora hit on him?
I think this all goes back to trust… Do you have full trust in the person? Yes. Then there should be nothing to worry about.
Am I just screaming fire when there is a candle burning?
Should I be getting worked up about irrelevant strangers and the social constructs of a night out, or should I just be focusing on living and having fun?
We all have our own insecurities and it was not until last night, when I got home with Americano, Witt, and Nat then they all came out. Sitting on Nat’ bed, we spoke about all that was unsaid.
The funny thing about what is unsaid, is that it can mean something completely different when said out loud. You can love, respect and cherish someone silently, but it is not until it is outwardly stated that it becomes real.
I admit, this is an insecurity of mine. I do not like to leave the house looking drab. You will never find me walking down Avenue in sweatpants. I do not care how late it is, it just never will happen.
I feel like I place so much emphasis on image, that I sometimes forget that the only person I should be pleasing is myself.
Hearing Nat speak, we realize we undergo many of the same issues. We are frightened to be seen in light different from the persona in which we share. It is scary to think that so much emphasis is placed on these little fragments of stupidity, that it soon overtakes our mind.
I feel that sometimes all you need is to be heard. You need to express how you feel no matter how stupid it sounds. You need to cry, and to let out all of the pent-up negative energies in which you are housing. You have the power to control what you bring into your life, and there is no rule stating that you cannot break down…after all you are human.
Waking up today, I made myself some coffee and looked out the window. Yesterday, I was weighed down; held back by all that was unsaid. As I take a sip and look out onto the travellers walking along the cobble stone, I feel unbound.