Let's dance
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4d7Wp9kKjA
I'm... leaving my adopted home and adopted family here in Denver. I hate that fact. But, I know that fighting alcoholism isn't something I can do by myself and I do a lot better with regular/intermittent interaction with humans, especially family. So I'm moving back to Colo. Springs and 90% of what I hate. No 24 hour restaurants. Shitty pool halls if you can find one in which you won't get your gringo ass kicked. Immense infection by brain-dead religious memes. I'm afear'd there going to be no zest, no anima, no life back there in the middle of intellectual neanderthals. Hell, I just made a cool new friend last night. All that I think I'd find in the Springs are peers like my old friends, the ones destroyed by crystal meth and apathy and alcoholism. It's a sad goodbye to my current hometown. Denver isn't perfect, she's got her faults and flaws, but she's a beautiful place to play in.
Part of the... detachment process for me? It was a night at a club for a couple different reasons. I went out to a nightclub with a drive to dance myself into a sweat rather than drink myself into oblivion. Almost always, I hate nightclubs. I worked my way into a sweat. Slid onto the dancefloor like a half-melted shadow. Swung the goods like a rivethead Elvis. If you're gonna go out, go out with a smile on your face. Do it with style.
Catharsis achieved. Mission accomplished.
I got to offer a listening ear to a pretty and what seemed sad girl sitting alone, not dancing and just watching everyone else, and although she declined I was glad to offer the chance. I reconnected with an old friend. Got to kiss a beautiful woman once or twice, gentle and kind. Got to make a friend laugh. Got to get another friend to consider, for a moment, if he really needed more alcohol. He'd do the same for me.
I managed to do all this without being six sheets to the wind. Bonus!
Kinda got reeled into a woman I spanked ONCE about two years ago at a party. Dropping hints and invitations all night was she. But had I grabbed that chance my today would be fucked. It already kind of is.
There's a gathering today in rememberance of a fella that recently went the suicide route. Horrible how the aftermath from that sort of thing. I'm glad I never did it to my friends and family and lovers. Yeah, I've considered it a couple times this past decade. That's a story for another time. The point is that I made a couple questionable choices and will pay the due cost in order to support my brother who knew the deceased a lot better than I.
I'd like to have more class than to be hungover at a wake, but I doubt I'd be the only one wrecked from a previous night of clubbing. What the hell else would you expect? Hard times require hard partying to relieve the pressure.
I just wish my throat didn't feel so much like a chemlab.
I'm... leaving my adopted home and adopted family here in Denver. I hate that fact. But, I know that fighting alcoholism isn't something I can do by myself and I do a lot better with regular/intermittent interaction with humans, especially family. So I'm moving back to Colo. Springs and 90% of what I hate. No 24 hour restaurants. Shitty pool halls if you can find one in which you won't get your gringo ass kicked. Immense infection by brain-dead religious memes. I'm afear'd there going to be no zest, no anima, no life back there in the middle of intellectual neanderthals. Hell, I just made a cool new friend last night. All that I think I'd find in the Springs are peers like my old friends, the ones destroyed by crystal meth and apathy and alcoholism. It's a sad goodbye to my current hometown. Denver isn't perfect, she's got her faults and flaws, but she's a beautiful place to play in.
Part of the... detachment process for me? It was a night at a club for a couple different reasons. I went out to a nightclub with a drive to dance myself into a sweat rather than drink myself into oblivion. Almost always, I hate nightclubs. I worked my way into a sweat. Slid onto the dancefloor like a half-melted shadow. Swung the goods like a rivethead Elvis. If you're gonna go out, go out with a smile on your face. Do it with style.
Catharsis achieved. Mission accomplished.
I got to offer a listening ear to a pretty and what seemed sad girl sitting alone, not dancing and just watching everyone else, and although she declined I was glad to offer the chance. I reconnected with an old friend. Got to kiss a beautiful woman once or twice, gentle and kind. Got to make a friend laugh. Got to get another friend to consider, for a moment, if he really needed more alcohol. He'd do the same for me.
I managed to do all this without being six sheets to the wind. Bonus!
Kinda got reeled into a woman I spanked ONCE about two years ago at a party. Dropping hints and invitations all night was she. But had I grabbed that chance my today would be fucked. It already kind of is.
There's a gathering today in rememberance of a fella that recently went the suicide route. Horrible how the aftermath from that sort of thing. I'm glad I never did it to my friends and family and lovers. Yeah, I've considered it a couple times this past decade. That's a story for another time. The point is that I made a couple questionable choices and will pay the due cost in order to support my brother who knew the deceased a lot better than I.
I'd like to have more class than to be hungover at a wake, but I doubt I'd be the only one wrecked from a previous night of clubbing. What the hell else would you expect? Hard times require hard partying to relieve the pressure.
I just wish my throat didn't feel so much like a chemlab.