The night (II)

This place is even darker than the inhabited halls. No, that’s not true, it’s illuminated by fluorescent lights. My nails are shinning. On the floor, there are paths, with information displayed that I can’t decipher. Probably prices, or, gossips. Maybe poems, or some lyrics… I can’t read it and I don’t care. I simply follow my friend, first to the bar, where we grab two beer bottles, then to the dance floor. I’m not able to distinguish the people anymore. The techno music is quite loud, above the level that it allows you to speak with the people around. There is one person in a cabin, shooting laser combs over the crowd, following the crescendos of the music. There’s also some smoke in the air. I want to tell my friend my thoughts about our society, what we do, where we go, but this is definitely not the last stop I was looking for. I dance, and dance, and dance. Somebody passes me another beer bottle, and I take it. And then, another. People move with me, around me. Interesting enough, I’m still able to appreciate the lack of personal sound systems: people dance synchronized, all hearing the same beat, the mass is one, and it vibrates all together. I feel like a part of something bigger.

But I can’t speak here. My friend keeps talking with everybody, whispering in the ears of the dancers. A girl seems to be attached to him already. He kisses her causally, but in an elegant way. Like making a scene. People seem to cheer it up. He looks popular. But I don’t understand and I don’t hear what they speak. I feel alone. I try to approach one girl, but she seems to be in another dimension. After I’m rejected, I remember my boss. In my mind, he’s telling me “remember we are the guardians of the traditional values”, and smiling in his crooked way. Am I not knowing our society, am I only able to see what they taught me to see? Is this party a part of my society? In my memory, places like this were heavily controlled by cameras. When I was a teen, I was always able, next morning, to collect nice videos from the net about what I did the previous night, and how. It helped me a lot to improve as an adult, since your errors are recorded and delivered nicely to you. Isn’t a nice thing to be recorded?

Suddenly, I feel naked without the cameras, and surrounded by criminals. What do they want to hide here? Why they don’t seem to be independent, why they move all together? Independence is one of the pillars of our society, one needs to be able to survive alone. But I’m thinking too much. I understand it’s time for me to give up. So I give up, and I start coming back, without kissing goodbye.

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About bitsanddragons

A traveller, an IT professional and a casual writer
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