2003-05-17

I don�t know why I go out anymore. It�s not to hook up with anyone. It�s not to get drunk. It�s not to do anything. I don�t want to be seen. I pay my cover, wall flower for a bit and then move on to the next place.

It�s depressing. Or at least it was tonight. My friends left early. I stayed. Perhaps that was my mistake. The friends were bitter and grumpy for various reasons. Maybe that is why I stayed. Then it became one of those searches for a good time. The elusive fun that is always a bar away, shimmering like a mirage on the horizon, that draws one always onward until it�s last call and the lights come on. The best part of staying for last call is to see all the people start when those harsh halogen bulbs come to life. The way the sober member of the parties herds people out. The couples acting macho. The gays settling on whomever. I wish I could capture all that on film or photo. A black screen, a techno beat. Flashes from the light show. The song ends, the song stops as the screen goes completely white, and the people fade into view. Each living out a mini melodrama.

Maybe that�s why I go out.

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