como se llama, si! bonita, si!, mi casa, su casa...
constantly edited
Lying on the floor, after situps. Maybe music, mostly the box fan blowing next to me. Lying on the floor. There are some moments that will always make me feel like I’m fourteen. The places I could be, instead of on the floor by myself. And yet, there is no where else I would rather be.
There are dark places, holes in the wall. Most people need alcohol, so there’s always some kind of bar, a busy bartender and bored, slightly drunk customers leaning against it. And there are low lights, yellow like candle light, that fall gently on the crowd. There is always a crowd. So many people, smushed on a small fake wood dance floor. How do they fit? How can they dance? Yet they dance, in to each other, on to each other, with or without feeling, they move, move, move. Everyone desperately moves; up, down, around, fast, slow, shaking, swaying, spinning... They move, like there is no time left. No time to ever breathe the air again, no time to be clean, to work and eat and sleep. No more time to call your mother, kiss your girlfriend, make love in the dark. All they can do, all the crowd knows to do, is to dance.
Lying on the floor, after situps. Maybe music, mostly the box fan blowing next to me. Lying on the floor. There are some moments that will always make me feel like I’m fourteen. The places I could be, instead of on the floor by myself. And yet, there is no where else I would rather be.
There are dark places, holes in the wall. Most people need alcohol, so there’s always some kind of bar, a busy bartender and bored, slightly drunk customers leaning against it. And there are low lights, yellow like candle light, that fall gently on the crowd. There is always a crowd. So many people, smushed on a small fake wood dance floor. How do they fit? How can they dance? Yet they dance, in to each other, on to each other, with or without feeling, they move, move, move. Everyone desperately moves; up, down, around, fast, slow, shaking, swaying, spinning... They move, like there is no time left. No time to ever breathe the air again, no time to be clean, to work and eat and sleep. No more time to call your mother, kiss your girlfriend, make love in the dark. All they can do, all the crowd knows to do, is to dance.