The DJ Blew My Mind Again

The DJ blew my mind, it was sublime, dancing under the flashing lights, floating on the good vibes, with sweat dribbling down my face, and my neck, even down the back of my leg. I'm inside my head, the world has disappeared, floated away when I close my eyes. The beat is fresh, beating in my heart, and my ears, and my chest, beating deep down in the depth of my soul. 

My eyes are closed for the longest time. I'm alone. Even if I can feel the bodies floating around me. It's how I imagine it would be like in space. What a place.

I'm in the zone. you know where you get to at 3am, after all of the chemicals have done their thing, when you body has gone to the groove and almost seems to be working despite yourself. It is belief. It is relief. Better than sex in so many ways. It is floating on the groove with no anticipated stop. Just dof, dof, dof. My feet are moving by themself by now. I can't get enough of it, and I never want to stop. I never want to come down. This is living, right here and now.

Just me... and 100 of my closest friends.

Communing together on the latest tune.

Thank you Stephen, thank you Phil, thank you Guy, thank you sexy Gill, dancing shirtless behind the desk all covered in sweat.

Then another track. I love this song. Big breath.

One tune slides so easily into another, like butter. The beat beats, the vocals soar, "Yeah! Woo! Hoo!" Spin around. Raise my arms to the roof. Doof, doof, doof.

The DJ blew my mind again.

There we all are right to the end, until the last note is played and we all wind down and stop. I feel spaced out. My feet still want to move. I can get the smile from my face, not that I want to, I’m not sure I ever will.

We’re all standing around afterwards, yeah sure, we’re buzzing, all of us above, some of us are still dancing, even if it’s just in our own head.

We all get together for the unofficial postmortem of the party, that’s never really intentional but happens in due course. My own intention is just to find each other, before we all head home. The conversation starts and we start telling stories of the night. Who was the best DJ. Who did the best set. Who danced with who. Who lost their minds and at what time of the night. Who had an adventure in the toilet, with whoever they may have met there.

I stand with Gill and his shirtless in sweat, his olive skin is glistening, his muscles are shiny. He is a solid boy, stocky, muscly, a good look for sure.

We talk a lot all of us. Some might say that our speech is enhanced, ha ha, that’s how we danced. While the sun comes up, and the morning air turns bright and the sun becomes life. I look over a Gill in his old blue jeans, and shirtless attire.

People take stuff, the little plastic bags come out. Everyone drinks water. The water gets passed around. Some of us are smoking furiously, even the ones who never smoke. The cigarette packets get passed around with the water bottle.

“Did you see Harry? What did she come as?”

“Post stroke Bette Davis, by the look of him.”

“Was Christian there?”

“Sure was, he was getting his arse licked in the bogs by all and sundry at the end there.”

“Tim?”

“Yeah, I danced with him for a time.”

“Did anyone see Paul?”

“He was on the hunt for more pills for most of the night.”

“Who saw Jack and Nick?”

“I did,” says Alex. “I’ve got a catch up with them later on.”

“Greedy boy,” says Liam.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” says Alex.

“Just jealous,” says Gill.

“I know I am,” says Liam.

“What are you doing, Joe,” I ask.

“Lachlan.” Joe smiles like he’s the cat who got the cream.

Everyone “oo’s” at that news.

I wasn’t sure we were ever going to get the smile off Joe’s face.

Everyone was still kind of dancing, shaking and twitching, even just sitting still. I think everyone thought they were smiling, but really, they all just look kind of strained.

People start to wander off, in due course, one by one. I mean it was all over and we all had to get going.

The large group becomes a small group, we just seem to be standing around for the sake of it, to fucked up to move, perhaps none of us wanted it to end, we never want it to end. Except I’ve got plans, which involved the shirtless DJ to my right.

I’ll look over at Gill, he gives me a look, you know that look, squeeze his eyes together, lift an eyebrow slightly, and I know it’s time to go, I know I want to go. We leave a few minutes later.

“Hey bud, you’re coming to my place,” says Gill?

“Yes,” I say. That’s the only place I want to be, I think.

“Did you bring a car,” he asks?

“No,” I came with Joe.

“Good show,” says Gill.

I ask Gill if he’s right to drive, and of course he says yes. It’s not the same as an alcohol, that’s different, you can’t drive when you’re pissed.

Gills cars in the car park with the rest. He gets behind the wheel I get in the passenger seat of course.

Gill pulls out a small plastic bag and offers bargain offer me some pills. So, we top up before we get going, before Gill starts the car.

We cruise home, well, to Gills‘s place. We’re really peaking again when we get to the front door.

We fall inside the door. We lie there in the entranceway laughing. It’s like we can’t move. It’s because we don’t want to move.

“How are you feeling,” asks Gill?

“Like shit,” I say. “But fabulous shit.

Gill laughs.

“How are you feeling,” I ask?

“Like fabulous shit too.”

“I’m really high,” I say.

“Woosh!” says Gill.

“Fucking woosh,” I say.

“They are great pills,” says Gill. “Fucken great,” he slurs.

“They are blowing my mind,” I say.