The crisp night air, blowing a little too strong through my newly curled hair, sends a shiver down my spine. I am not sure whether it is indeed from the breeze of Darkness' angel, or the excitement of the night ahead. I lock my car and start heading with my beautiful boy, my other boy, personified, I'd say, by a large rainbow on crack, and Nikki, who has had two Red Bulls and is with already hyper Brian, my fag, jumping on rocks as if only yesterday we were first introduced to the jungle gym in elementary school.

"Got a light?" The strange man walks towards Nikki holding out a cigarette in his hand. Only a cigarette, however, if you don't mind it being stuffed with something grown in Venezuela. Nikki, experienced Nikki walks past and we all quickly follow, not wishing to look back at the druggy now speaking to multiple blades of grass obviously relating to him some theory of evolution or the physics of aerodynamic convergence.

A few more blocks and we see the sign "Paradox" –our destination. Quick slips of ID and we are in. Immediately the environment is taken from the eerie satisfaction of the night, to the wild heat of night life, a strange phenomenon not known in all cities of the world, especially not in Denton Texas where my next four years will be spent, but that is the future, and this is the now. Soon, though, the future, past, and present all reside in this building for the music never seems to stop, the bodies never cease to sway, and the DJ yells a jumble of unintelligible words to a screaming crowd who obviously understood something in the chaos. Could this be how chaos was in the beginning of time? First there was chaos.

A quick whisper, ending up being more of a loud yell, hooks us up with free water and we grab a table contemplating the correct instant in time when our bodies would flow most accordingly in this sea of flesh. And then our fate is decided and all that is between us and the next four hours of sweat is a small flight of stairs, quickly overcome, and the hard concrete slaps an encoded message to my feet to move, sway, dance, or fall as all things must when the end is near. Two more songs and I observe: Nikki on the platform flirting with the DJ, my beautiful boy behind me, my other boy in front of me, grinding like a black woman. Who taught him how to dance? Right, it was me and three black women. Flash, flash, strobe light, darkness, spotlight, darkness, red, green, blue, orange light and then I observe: Nikki on the platform flirting with the DJ, my beautiful boy behind me, my other boy… gone, no, just lost in the jumble of this mess, probably with the man of his dreams, or a Blasian woman, either way he would be happy, his attitude, at least tonight, being that of a shallow river flowing from and to nowhere only living, through it's contents, from second to second.

I glance at my florescent watch, although it looks more like a dim white light bulb in a bulb flower garden of all the colors of the rainbow (No wonder Brian is so amused). One o' clock beams its strange code-like message backwards through my eyes, reversed, and sent to my brain to process. Then is hits me. My Cinderella time is up, with no prince but whom I brought to show. I run to each of my companions and explain my desperate situation and we run through the smoke infested lobby into the night air.

The pounding of my eardrum and the almost muted sound of out footsteps on the gravel is the extent of my third sense due to the numbing effects of over amplified hip-hop. The drive home is simple as all the cars of the brave drive in the opposite but parallel direction from us. I drop Brian and Nikki and a white house with a green garage, its too late to tell to whom it belongs, and then swiftly I return to home to have some evening with my beautiful boy.