hello. I usually don't make comments up here but hey. Writing this was just me trying to work through an artist block. I had to tell myself , theres a huge difference between doing things for fun and not taking them seriously or really putting in some effort. I hope you can enjoy this short thing.

Lights flash, the stereo is pounding. So loud I can feel it in my chest, stomach, ears. I can't stop dancing, I'm stuck between two of the hottest women in the club tonight and I know that now I'm going to see them every night from now on. No one leaves because dancing is easy. You move your body without thinking, you don't think about what's going on outside. You take a whiff of the passion in the deepest part of that blood pumping heart and you go without ever thinking.

Hours go by, or days, it's not important because I'm having a good time. I undo one of the buttons on my yellow shirt, zip my red bellbottoms, tighten my belt and give the buckles wheel a spin. I got the thing custom made before I got here and the ladies love it. I can't keep a honey off me too long before another wants to give it a spin.

I step over to the bar, there's a law where they gotta serve food in these places now and it really makes me happy. There was a time when we had nothing but sodas and alcohol. People started getting skinny real fast. Not that im complaining, all the the girls are looking good now.

I order a shot and a plate of buffalo wings, 20 of them. I don't want to stop dancing for a few more minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, centuries. Eat fast or lose your chance to tear it up on the dance floor.

A chick runs her hand through my fro, she's drunk off her ass and all over me before I can do anything about it.

We sit there in each others arms trying to get the heat we got on the dance floor while we waited for some well earned grub.

I know her face, her names crystal, candy, glitter or something like that. She's got eyes like crystals, lips like candy, body covered in glitter so I got it good enough.

There's a flower tucked behind her ear, a wilted something, im no plant expert if its not rolled. The petals all fell off, she must have been here a long time. I take the flower and shove it in my pocket. I'll remember crystal candy glitter when I reach in next time. Dance with her when I get my stomach filled.

Hot sizzling wings and straight vodka. The perfect breakfast lunch and dinner. I take a spicy chicken wing in my fingers and bite down, real tasty. There's sauce all over my fingers. Nasty.

I eat a few more and wipe it on my pants, I gotta get back to the dance floor. I down my drink in one go and the crowd cheers. These are my friends. I love these dumbasses, always so impressed because I know how to do it best.

What is the it I'm doing? I'm living. I live the best because I've been with the club since opening. I remember when it was just me and Amnisty dancing together on an empty floor. I want to dance with her again because we were the best at waltzing, I'm sure the DJ could put on some ballroom beats if I could find her. Amnisty taught me how to waltz before the place opened and now I never see her around.

I groove my way back to the dance floor and I'm in the mood for a waltz. I grab a beautiful girl by the waist and stand up straight, take her hand and start to move. She's got two left feet and I've got no patience. I don't need to waltz, I just need her grinding on me.

There's a ton of them. Girls everywhere with flowers behind their ears, a few with them between their legs. There's no funny business in the club though, I know that better than anyone. You want to do the nasty you take it outside the club.

It's been a long time since I've done any of that, I'm too busy dancing. And who wants to fuck anyways? You get kids that way.

I think I already have kids though. Two of them. No it was one. Peter I think. He wanted to be a baseball player.

My favorite song is on, the speakers are blasting it right through me.

I gotta dance right now or I'm gonna die. I feel the beat, all over my skin, the room smells like sweat and perfume, bubble gum and grilled meat.

I dance without really thinking for a while but soon Amnisty is on my mind again. She's holding Peter in her arms and dancing with him. She's gonna teach him how to waltz.

I'm so proud of that boy. I didn't even notice I was waltzing in place until I saw the front door to the club.

I stop waltzing and the door fades away like it was never there at all. Actually I'm sure it never was. It couldnt be. I look to the left and I see a girl copy my moves. She's got the eyes of a mother. She dances, waltzes right through the wall. Where the hell was the door, couldnt she have used that?

I wish she had stayed and danced with me. I like to dance all night but I want to dance with Amnisty again. I want to show Peter that his old pops can cut a rug. no, I've been cutting a rug all this time. I want to show him that dancing is an art.

My waltzing is rusty though. I'm better off twerking and grinding. So Amnisty can wait just a bit longer. I strut back to the dance floor and reach in my pocket to feel crystal candy glitter's flower. Its gone, so is she. That door must have been real to her.