Last night a good friend of mine insisted I join them in the Zebrano club near Carnaby street, one that I hadn't been to in years. As I walked in, I felt that old familiar thump in the chest, the mingle of perfume and cologne and the different drinks on offer. We walked down into the dark basement where the beautiful people were all mingled, chatting, dancing or drinking happily. I must have been to hundreds of clubs, pubs and bars over more than a decade, but walking back into one made me feel like a fish out of water. I needed the change of scenery desparately though this was not what I had in mind.
"Has it been that long?" I thought to myself, it must have been. I sipped my mineral water quietly. We stayed for a few hours, I then made my excuses and left. As I walked back to Oxford circus tube station I watched the clubbing crowd in their short skirts and flash suits stagger around. I recited al kafiroun silently. It was not in a hateful manner, I was like them once. But I needed to make a point within my soul that I do not worship whatever these people worship. They have their beliefs and I have mine. I remain so very tired though...
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I love this post - only because I can so relate! I too have this guilty, uncomfortable feeling when i'm dragged out on a friday night.
Sometimes I too sit watching and thinking to myself - is this it? is this how you fulfil your lives? by spending hours to beautifying yourselves only to feeling unwell in the morning.
Was it really worth it? In a world where the blind lead the blind, it probably is.
Post a Comment