It’s now 1.49am on the rocket clock. I’m in bed at home and for the past 30min, I have spent writing some philosophical backtrack into the night, referencing the chorus from the arty local band at Ric’s as a metaphor for life.

You known what, Fuck that shit. Delete.

Tonight i’m going to listen what many people have told me this year (with great reason) and learn to live on the surface a little more. ‘lighten up’.

So rather than this morning’s post being about the deep seated issues around why people drink I wanted to talk about something more physical, more instinctual than my usual cognitive musings. Disect and analyse as much as I want about shit, I’m starting to realize that there is just as an incredibly important place for living on the surface in life as delfing into the depths. I want to talk about ‘the dance’.

The dance is that raw, creative passion that comes from somewhere beyond the level of thought, the level of reason. It’s when you put your life savings on the poker table and go ‘i’m not leaving until this is gone or I’m getting a limo home’. It’s that glance of an intoxicatingly beautiful person in a club that like a rose blooming, petal by petal, that glance becomes a conversation… then more.

That’s the dance of life that I admittingly sometimes forget to appreciate. In many ways, alcohol used to be the sexy tango partner that would be guiding the steps for me to move to. I’m slowly learning to take the lead.

It’s clumsy, but… I’m getting there.

Tonight’s glimses of getting my dance on;

Firstly, at Friday’s (my favourite place on earth!!……) I was meeting up there with an old friend that I hadn’t seen for ages. There was this group of two really attractive women (honestly, the place is chocas full of them!) that I just went up to and had some sort of banterous conversation about some nonsensical, hypothetical situation. It was really fun. I wasn’t wasn’t trying to psychoanalyse or council their answer. I was just throwing enough chat to get their number and if I’m lucky get a pash at the end of the night. Dancing. Yes please.

Secondly, i then went up to Cloudland, with my friend Shannon Malloy to the Subfusco after party. (it honestly looked like Hansel’s warehouse. So many lookers and wonderful beautiful people from Mt Vesuvius).

On a rush of impulse I charged the dance floor, grabbing the hand of a beautiful girl on my way through. Dancing baby!!. Things were going awesome until I started to think about it. The old… ‘where do i put my hand’ fumble. Fail. The lesson for me here is -!!! As soon as I go into my head in a girl situation – I fuck it up!! Haha.

So, where to from here? I’m going to use this blog as a way to hold myself accountable to getting my ‘dance’ (both metaphorically and literally) on and doing some crazy shit over the next couple of months.

I still want to go deep with some things because that is where I get so much learning, but it’s important for me to not have an agenda as to where the learning comes from. Sometimes the surface is just as good.


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