just got back from a long night out. its funny how things work out. when i first got to ny, i had never been clubbing. i was intrigued by the whole scene and got into it right away. i loved it. a successful, fun night was defined by the number of guys i got to dance with or the number of phone numbers i could add to my pile.

three years later, the intrigue of clubbing? vanished. every party is the same. i know what song will mix to the next, i know all the people who throw the parties, the ones that loyally attend them and the ones that don't belong. i know what its like to have to stay till 4am when the club closes down and what its like to get there at 930pm to help set up. the mystery disappeared and took the glamour with it.

now when i club, time feels as if its never moved so slow. a good night, (a rarity), is when i successfully maintain the distance between me and the strange guy trying to dance with me. why do people think i have such elaborate dancing styles? i just want my damn space. so yea, i enjoy the dancing, the drinking, the music. but the scene? no more, i say. i'm done.