Remember the film “Click” where Adam Sandler would pick up the remote and unhesitatingly forward parts of his life away, only to realise how much he regretted it? I feel like I’ve been doing that alot recently, except the absence of a remote in my hand forces me to resort to sleeping to super speed my life forward. I think I average 15 hours of sleep a day now if I’m not heading out.
There’s something oddly hypnotizing about being in a room filled with people, music blaring at deafening levels and where the only beverage available contains enough alcohol to sanitize your table top. Had an amazing time last weekend with some of the coolest people I have had the honour of ever knowing in a nightclub dancing, drinking and puking my night away. As much as the puking was totally worth it considering the fact that I thoroughly enjoyed myself the previous night, I am having mixed reactions to the entire escapade. Reactions ranging from “Never again.”, to “Round 2 next Sat night!” and as much as the rebellious and fun loving teenager in me is screaming to say “Bring it on”, the matured old lady hidden deep within my marrows say no. And this time, the old lady in a grey knitted sweater wins.
I mean, there’s completely no harm (if you exclude the damage done to your liver) in partying the night away with a group of close friends because you know that no matter how drunk you are, there will be someone to hold your hair when you are hurling vile tasting liquid into the river and make sure that you get home safely. Especially with results releasing in ten days time, this is the best time to be young. This is the best time to be worry free. This is the only time you can ever be this carefree. Maybe its just me, but every time I have a kickass night, something feels wrong. Besides the fact that I feel like I have been punched in every part of my body (I suspect that my friends have violent tendencies), I feel even more empty than I felt the night before. And I don’t mean empty in the way broken hearted girls say they are after a break up. I mean empty in a sense like I gave too much last night and got too little back. Empty like I lost a night not remembering what I did, or who I was. Its funny for the moment when I text Daniel “Dafuq did I do last night?” and he replies saying “Irene asked you what your name was and you said Chow…Chow Chee Bye”, and then it just becomes horrifying because maaaaan I totally did not remember myself saying that last night.
Don’t get me wrong, I support partying, its just that I can never fully grasp the emotions I get after that. The high you get from being intoxicated, the heat from dancing with like a million other people on the dance floor, the air you breathe which feels saturated from the breaths of the others in the room, the way your vision begins to blur and everything starts to become funny, the feeling is exquisite. Crude yes, but exquisite.
I suppose some people feel that they shed a part of themselves after the night out and they feel lighter than they were before. Perhaps relieved? But to me, the lightness translates into an uncomfortable emptiness, much like I walked in a whole and came out half.