So I celebrated my birthday for the 22nd time. Each year you get older, you get bolder (or balder, depends), and weirder. Yeah don't forget the weird bit. So on the fateful day, I usher in my b-day in a club. Or disco, whatever. Bar None. Ermm...that's the name of the club/disco/whatever. Ha-ha...A first timer. It's a wonder I survived. Actually there was this one tiny incident, which made me realise I want my "innocence" back ! One who never been in these places might be expecting some things. Not me. I never made any "jumping to conclusions" without being physically there to "jump into" (hmm...weird sentence structure).

My first thought, blardy smoky. I hate cigarette smoke and to totally be in the womb of smoke, my goodness...I feel as though my lungs has expired ! Now I wonder no more how shortness of breath feels like. The next thing that hits me; flashing lights. Neon lights are a bit** ! Green, pink, yellow, white, blue....alternating, spinning, me swooning. If my stomach is any weaker, I could have barfed ! I like the music though. I guess that's the saving grace of a club/disco/whatever. People gyrating to the beat of the bass. Snuggle, cuddle, hug. Man, woman, trannie, cats, dogs (oops...got carried away...). A place of sin ? A place of release ? A place of pleasure ? A place of danger ? Who am I to judge ? Been there once, stayed for no longer than an hour, how can I judge ?

I don't do party. Give me my "Pride & Prejudice" and an isolation booth anytime. Get out of my face and stay out of my hair.

I live well alone.