The night was quite sweltering with the perspiration on the numerous bodies of the young as well as the old. It seemed that all of us are young at heart, being the state that we, most of us anyways, were in. The DROP of inspiration makes us all do a lot of things. Makes us move rhythmically to the hard bass that vibrates through the walls and to the night throughout the quiet neighborhood.
The city's enforcement comes, and slaps us on the hand with a waring, early in the night. A bit of a buzz kill, but nothing that cant stop the beats. It all comes down to the beats. Inside was nice, but the walls themselves were sweating like my head. My chest is moving, along with my feet, going to every nook of the house, regulating the rules of the court. Making sure everyone is having a great time, as well as respecting my authority, I periodically escape outside to fill my lungs with an addiction that is hard to kick, but in the state that I am in, it makes me feel a refreshing, smokey breeze for my lungs. It may not be the best habit in the world, but like many other things I do, it takes the edge off.
My pupils, I can tell, grow black, as the flashing lights hit the back of my skull. Many bodies are crowding my personal space, but it seems to not mind me, as I tend to invade others personal box. Like a ping pong ball, I'm bouncing all over the house, trying to entertain my needs to keep this feeling going on as long as possible. Nothing can keep my attention long enough, except the music.
The music seemed to draw me in, no matter what it was, or where I was. I was all over the place, but my body was always with the music. Moving slow, then fast at times, I can feel my heart race to the beat. I don't want this feeling to stop, but all things must always come to an end.
As the crowd eases out the door, and the sky slowly creeps up over the horizon, my eyes have gone from marbles, to mere beads. My energy has went from hyper active to almost comatose. My body still feeling the music, that is constantly echoing in my head. As the sun comes up, the morning chill feels refreshing. The smoke from my crush satisfies my craving once again. I know now, because what was once a filled night of loud bumps, have turned into a day of soft sounds of slight snores. The night is now done with. Epic proportions? Yes. Night over, night a blur, but a night not forgotten.
