Endless Paths
Black lights, mist, and the smells of alcohol, sweat and perfume are not as overpowering as the rumbling ground every time the bass drops. The electrifying atmosphere in this little enclosed space is like a portal to a magical network connecting every such vibrant night-club across the world, separated by thousands of miles, languages, cultures and ideas, united by a quest lying in the hearts of its patrons to ‘seize control of life’ on the dance floor.
At the bar, even as the money travels one way in plenty, in exchange for these magical elixirs that travel the other way (only to be flushed down gutter in a short while), the street outside could easily have hopeless beings begging for less than can buy them enough booze to get a fly drunk, just to make it through the night without starving, like a dying toucan on the rainforest floor, even as oblivious life forms shuffle about from escapade to escapade, in search of the next adventure for the night. And yet there is doubt in some minds that we live in jungles. As we are born and bred in society’s well laid out circular paths of insensitivity, we learn the “way of life”, and its rules of hierarchy, fate and luck, as we convince ourselves that we are trudging ahead.
In our little circles of comfort, we are willing to pay with our souls just for a few more moments to get by on this endless path. What happens if we choose to get off of it? To take a tangent? Do we really lose everything we think we are bound to lose? Do we succumb to that which we learn to fear and that which we learn to teach others into fearing?: A formless and nameless peril purported to exist on the inside and outside of this circular road we have always been treading.
