I leave the dance floor. Weaving my way to the back bar, I contemplate going back out. I’ve drank myself into another introspective night out and the music is the only thing keeping me company. Thank God for the music. To my left another short skirt orders a vodka water… what a waste. On my right a round of shots goes out five at a time and I reminisce of the days when that was my troupe, laughing wildly at the escape. It seems like forever ago, just out of my reach. It won’t be long now, I think, taking a sip and turning back around. It seems odd now, going up to a random, thrusting my genitals into the thin fabric. But that’s how you get a girlfriend, right? Or maybe just an STD.

At times it feels natural. Grooving in my own little world. Isn’t this how we’re supposed to feel all the time? Then I look about and see all the pretty faces and regret that I can’t share the experience with someone special. Damn, I’ve lost my little world and I’m “Dancing With Myself” again. Just wait for the next song to grab my attention, that fat bass line and upbeat groove clouding my periphery, perking my ears. I try and clear my head, close my eyes and let the soulful vocals mix with the alcohol to intoxicate my mind. My legs seem to be catching on now. Yeah, this is good – my watered down drink and The Knocks‘ throwback vibes quench my thirst. All of a sudden, dancing with myself isn’t so bad. Hey DJ, turn it up tonight, I think I’ll continue in my own little world.

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