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Nietzche Trigger Finger Bang!!!
Sep. 10th, 2004 02:05 pm"Why Rob Why?" I ask with the pain and the aches throbbing down my body, strange bruises along the neck and there's something in the back of my head and the memories are opening up like flowers in the rain...
...I kneel in front of her as she dances in her cage, she thrusts her boot between the bars, the stilleto heel jabs into my shoulder lightly, playfully-more for show than anything else really. I look into the black vinyl reflecting me back like a fun house mirror. I lift the tip of her of boot to my lips and smile when I lick...
...and I'm face down between another womans lap an hour later. Thick thighs squeezing the life out of me, open ocean and lap at the shores of wet flames;her hand runs along my shaved head, she's rubbing it like a crystal ball trying to see a future that will never happen...
... and i'm in the booth now watching the digital timer click down the seconds to my opening song, I don't feel like a DJ, I feel like i'm on the bomb squad and I've forgotten which wire to cut the blue, the red,the blue think fast sucker-BOOM!!! Instinct activates and alcohol induced courage steadys the tendency of my hands to shake, I listen to the rhythm, I watch the floor, I check the requests along with the other DJ's playlist. I'm doing up the math in my head to make them dance. It just takes one mismatch of the beat and the floor will crash hard below me and it feels like the whole world is watching. I remember the old "Operation" game commercial in the back of my head "It takes a steady hand..."
... and I'm dancing with my eyes closed. I avatar me up a four armed blue skinned God to keep me warm when my insecurities start giving me the chills; I feel the lights play "star wars" above me; I can hear the laughing and shouting just under the throbbing of the bass line; and I spin and pivot and thrash and bump into the timid and the bold alike, and i'm 14 again in my first pit and i'm invisible to the Glitterati and the beautiful people, and being invisible I am free...
... Under the night sky smoking and joking with the strippers and performance artists and the marginally insane who love them. Women who are so beautiful it hurts to know the ways you won't know them, who smile like adolescent fantasies that have escaped from the centerfolds to run amok and among us. Red lipstick on the tip of the roach flicked to the wind as I look up and watch the satellites substitute for the stars ...
... and I'm alone in my room as the Sunday sun rises with my sobriety, I watch the darkness shrivel under the orange and purple light seeping through the curtains. Too dizzy to move. To tired to care. Work in less than 24 hours and the real me is coming back hard, Jack Daniels confidence discarded like a used rubber in the corner of a dirty room. Nothing left but the long wait for the sleep to kick in.
...I kneel in front of her as she dances in her cage, she thrusts her boot between the bars, the stilleto heel jabs into my shoulder lightly, playfully-more for show than anything else really. I look into the black vinyl reflecting me back like a fun house mirror. I lift the tip of her of boot to my lips and smile when I lick...
...and I'm face down between another womans lap an hour later. Thick thighs squeezing the life out of me, open ocean and lap at the shores of wet flames;her hand runs along my shaved head, she's rubbing it like a crystal ball trying to see a future that will never happen...
... and i'm in the booth now watching the digital timer click down the seconds to my opening song, I don't feel like a DJ, I feel like i'm on the bomb squad and I've forgotten which wire to cut the blue, the red,the blue think fast sucker-BOOM!!! Instinct activates and alcohol induced courage steadys the tendency of my hands to shake, I listen to the rhythm, I watch the floor, I check the requests along with the other DJ's playlist. I'm doing up the math in my head to make them dance. It just takes one mismatch of the beat and the floor will crash hard below me and it feels like the whole world is watching. I remember the old "Operation" game commercial in the back of my head "It takes a steady hand..."
... and I'm dancing with my eyes closed. I avatar me up a four armed blue skinned God to keep me warm when my insecurities start giving me the chills; I feel the lights play "star wars" above me; I can hear the laughing and shouting just under the throbbing of the bass line; and I spin and pivot and thrash and bump into the timid and the bold alike, and i'm 14 again in my first pit and i'm invisible to the Glitterati and the beautiful people, and being invisible I am free...
... Under the night sky smoking and joking with the strippers and performance artists and the marginally insane who love them. Women who are so beautiful it hurts to know the ways you won't know them, who smile like adolescent fantasies that have escaped from the centerfolds to run amok and among us. Red lipstick on the tip of the roach flicked to the wind as I look up and watch the satellites substitute for the stars ...
... and I'm alone in my room as the Sunday sun rises with my sobriety, I watch the darkness shrivel under the orange and purple light seeping through the curtains. Too dizzy to move. To tired to care. Work in less than 24 hours and the real me is coming back hard, Jack Daniels confidence discarded like a used rubber in the corner of a dirty room. Nothing left but the long wait for the sleep to kick in.