Dancing, dolling up, putting on that cute dress, applying makeup to enhance your features. For what?
You dance, you drink, you dance, you pull up that skimpy skirt and look around you, looking for that gaze that will catch your eye and make you feel like you will finally get some tonight.
Your heart rejoices slightly when you notice that skeez bag look at your boobs and your ass. You can’t complain. At least you are getting some kind of attention. Your eyes dilute like the ice in your drink and you keep shaking those “money makers” as if you were trying to brisk off some disgusting insect clinging to your nipples. “Maybe if I pull up my dress a little more, it will cause an uproar and I will get him to grind up against me”. And all the time you are watching the skinny one twirl and swirl in the center of the circle, all eyes and dicks on her. You dance, booze and shake harder, your skirt gets shorter and shorter and you try everything. But still the skinny one twirls and swirls in the middle of it all.
You ask: “What is the point?”. What are you looking for? What do you want? Sex? Attention? Affection? A quick fuck? Meaning?
Walking back you think about the number of time you have walked this road and the scenario repeats itself over and over again. And you ask yourself if you will ever be happy, or if happiness is trying to achieve happiness. You question whether you can handle life sometimes. It’s as if you were just born and have lived over 50 years at the same time, walking past faces, places, conjuring up those people you might never see again but who have touched you so deeply it hurts.
For what, you ask? For the sake of taking a step back, breathing fresh air and analyzing, thinking and seeing that you are walking on a tight rope and every step you take, you are confronted with a balance between walking or falling into delusion.
