Waterbar

Last night I went gay clubbing. I go once every year, and this time it was to check out the new Waterbar. It was filled with sinuous, muscular forms gyrating or posing to obscure trance, shitty techno, and the occasional overhauled pop/mambo which of course got everyone wild.

The point of gay pubs is to stare, to pack and press against bodies and be submerged within a surreal eddy of time and physicality, where contact among men flow as freely as alcohol.

Dan was with me throughout the night. He breathed into my ear: "You're allowed to have fun too." He's attached, and had way too much to drink. I count him as one of my closer friends.

He stood by the taxi as I closed the door, my head reeling and buzzing. Enriched by booze, partings take on a certain pathos. Having always valued his company, it felt strange to also enjoy his affection. But such intoxication is timeless.

The next morning: Sorry abt last night. Had too much to drink.

No prob. Hope you had fun!

And so life goes on.