The product of a man always in touch but always to far gone and the post destruction of the American dream.
In a post apocalyptic world men are controlled by institutions by god and government. There is only the illusion of freedom. True freedom is taking control of your life and not letting anyone else take the wheel. People are so focused on the event, then end, who wins the “race” that they miss everything around them. The people, the environment, the feeling of being in that place at that time. Always watching what they are supposed to, never seeing the strange and the non constant. Watch, see and, understand rather then be seen and know nothing of what is constantly unfolding around you.
The race will prove interesting. I don’t know if I will see the end but it’s not about that. I want to see society from the sidelines. A ghost in the shadow of man, seeing through the mask, a look into the heart of the beast.
The quote “ he who makes a best of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.”not in the specific way but as a whole. Society has become a beast. More each day and everyday it becomes less human. Losing humanity faster than common sense and imagination. A world ravaged by war and poverty but all we care about is the trivial and pointless. So concerned by the ways and lives of others and not seeing how fucked our own lives are. Saying things like “how could we have known” and “we did what was right.” When it was right in front of them the whole time. They just don’t see the details. They just see the end of the race.
The race was a no-go. Canceled to the rain. Might have been a good thing, I would have been too twisted to notice. Instead we decided to go to the suburban jungle, the place where men go to worship a goddess of lust. A place to be so close to being wanted but always just out of reach. Funny how men pay for close to real instead of put time to get all the way to real for free. My friend Roy, a girl from work and, I ventured to the club after dinner. Already intoxicated and joined by 2 of the girls friends.
Upon entering the club we were stopped by a blonde in a white shirt. She was selling bottles and taking the cover charge. My friend covered and in we went. 4$ a piece to spend money on women. What a place. The smell of sweat and cheap perfume filled the room with a hint of spilled alcohol. The club was crowded but less then I expected. But that would soon change. Not 30 minutes later the place was packed. Men surround the stage yelling and throwing money. Some even jumping on so the girls would take it from their mouths.
My friend Roy decided to get a dance. This was his first time at a strip club so it took him a while to get up the courage. As my friend went up with the stripper, the guy next to me grabbed me and starts yelling about the girl my friend was with had missing teeth, and that he could have gotten a better one for his money. This man saw these women as objects. Upgrade from a k car to a Ferrari. They all saw like this. He laughed and went back to drinking and drooling. Like he came out of a trance for a second to tell me the low value of a stripper, then back in he went.
After realizing Roy was going to be a while I stepped out for a smoke with the girl. Half way through I met one of the strippers smoking a joint. She shared and we talked. I asked her what it was like. She said fun but hard having to be meat for countless men every day. She said she loved dancing but I could see in her eyes it was a lie. We looked into each other’s eyes then she snapped out of it and said she had to get back to work. I finished my smoke and went back in.
I was feeling good having smoked, until it hit me inside. The lights changed and the music distorted. What kind of sick hell was this? The club became a frenzy of emotions and urges and I was stuck in the middle. I thought to leave but Roy was still not back he had been gone for what felt like hours. Girls turned to monsters offering dances. He still was not back. I tried to get the girl a dance but to no end. She would not leave. What I would give to leave. Damn that bastard! Had to fall into the claws of that beast! How deep did she sink her claws to keep him this long? By the time he got back everything was different.
Men prowled like animals fighting for the meat on stage. Giving their wallets and self respect. Anything to feel like she wanted them and only them for even a moment. That would be enough for them. The true face of the beast. Desperation, urges, that short sense of being wanted, even for a price. My friend gave me some money and said have fun, having never had a lap dance before so I went for it. I picked a girl and up I went. Off to see why men drool and howl for these girls. As I walked to my chair I saw other men getting dances, faces of amazement, faces of wonder, like they were seeing for the first time. She sat me down and got on my lap, she slowly slid her mouth to my ear. I have no idea what to expect then she asked “do you have any coke?” I told her no I didn’t and she looked upset but continued. Though she was on my lap I could not focus or enjoy. My mind wandered. How did I get here? How did she get my hat? Was that my hat? And what was in that joint? She turned into a demon before me, her eyes pierced through me like daggers, suddenly she was standing and asking if I want another , I said no, paid her, then went back downstairs to my friends. I do not see the appeal in whatever that was.
I went back to Roy and the girl from work. Roy was upset. He paid the stripper $140 for the dance and found out he was missing $130 from his wallet when he got back to the table. He wanted to confront her but he had no proof it was her. The most surprising thing about all this to me was he went back and paid her for 1 more dance. Anything to feel wanted I guess.
After Roys last dance we decided to head out. We were done with the club. Time to end this night. We went for a bite to eat on the way back and went back to Roys to sleep. When we got back I hit the couch harder than ever before. Passing out almost instantly. I don’t remember if i dreamed that night but I guess that might be a good thing. At last, the nightmare was over.