A Collection of Thoughts

A Dance

The darkened room is illuminated by party lights, radiating a melancholic glow.
Their blinding colors make my head spin, and the stench of body odor causes my stomach to lurch.
A door is opened to the outside.
A chilling breeze flows from the dark unknown, ventilating the highly populated room.
It leads to somewhere far away, much farther from where I stand in my dress. Somewhere secluded and untouchable, filled with suppressed secrets.
Yet somehow, I can reach it, I can feel it.
The inky blackness beckons me.
It quietly coils under my skin, it's sobriety unsettling my core.
The blackness is rooted deeply into this room, into these people.
In all of us.
The realization arouses panic in my mind, and a truth surfaces.
I'm not happy.
I'm not happy here.
Nothing matters, and no one cares.
So many people, too many people, and not a single one cares.
Distasteful music blares from the speakers. Each deafening, throbbing note resonates in my body.
Each tearing my chest, fiber by fiber, until my rib cage is blown apart.
My bones echo with distress.
Rattling a shrill melody of their own, as their splinters cut through my flesh.
I am nothing but an aching hole that needs to be filled. Aching for more, always more.
More, more, more.
We are dancing orifices that cannot be filled. More friends, more people to talk to, more things to have.
But each body that mindlessly sways in this constricting room does not care.
We are faceless faces adorned in extravagant clothing that doesn't even matter, breathing shallow breaths that hold no substance.
If I possessed the right mindset, the apathy of others could possibly be liberating.
However, at this moment, I cannot find the joy in it as I fail to communicate with those around me.
I fail to branch out.
I fail to connect.
I too am just another moving body, and my shallow breath suffocates me.