Slow Motion Man

Loud EDM pumped out of the speakers mounted on the walls, a heartbeat that reverberated in our heads. The room was with a pulse. Lights of different colors danced on the walls and on the floor, flashing in rapid succession; it was an epileptic’s nightmare. The floor was filled with one, giant lump of flesh that throbbed to the EDM pulse. I watched this thing with fascination from our table. It was covered with a film of sweat and surrounded by a heady haze of lust.

Why am I here?

From across where I sat, one of my friends told us a joke. Everyone laughed their alcohol fueled laughter. I smiled though I did not hear what the joke was. My girlfriend embraced me and told me with her breath reeking of tequila that she loved me. I gave her a nod and told her I loved her too. The words felt weightless as they flew from my lips. She smiled, her eyes glossed up by all of the shots she took.

To fit in.

I looked all around me. I felt myself sweating. I felt like a man in slow motion stuck in a world perpetually moving in fast forward. Everything was one gigantic blur – an abstract painting of lights and sounds and faces.

I just feel so tired.

I stood up and left. The only sign I was ever there was an untouched glass of something mixed with something, its surface sweating from the cold.

Help.