#anyway!!!!! despite the fact i am some strange amalgamation of a girl and something else i will forever love the hyperfeminine style
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the ultimate girly media guide! ✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀🧁
from a CERTIFIED gal's gal ♡ 💬
──★ ˙ ̟ '👛🧸 video games
♡ infinity nikki
THE girly girl game of all time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! released in 2024, girly fashion style game with an interesting story and beautiful interface! perfect 4 the dress up girlies, gorgeous open world and my childhood video game dream (🎀🗒️note: be careful w ur storage!!!!!!!!!!! can be quite demanding)
♡ style savvy (nintendo ds, wii u)
♡ dress to impress (roblox)
♡ doki doki literature club
okay okay so i know this doesn't exactly fit here if you've played the game BUT i love the ddlc style and aside from the story its super cute!!!!!! psychological horror, SUPER disturbing at times with heavy topics!!!!!! read up on the game before downloading!!
♡ girlsgogames
yes im seriously recommending this. i LOVED this when i was little and i will still unironically play it every now and then I DO NOT CARE.
♡ royale high (roblox)
──★ ˙ ̟ '👛🧸 music and albums
♡ tommy february6
♡ girls' generation
♡ mariah carey
♡ paris hilton
♡ kali uchis
♡ to feel alive (ep) ♡ por vida (album) ♡ red moon in venus (album)
♡ nicole dollanganger
more creepy-cute morute style; beautiful, angelic voice and dark lyrics ♡ ♡ natural born losers (album) ♡ observatory mansions (album) ♡ heart shaped bed (album) ♡ curdled milk (album)
♡ girls day
♡ kara
♡ megan thee stallion
♡ gwen stefani
♡ love angel music baby (album)
♡ chloe moriondo
♡ suckerpunch (album)
♡ ariana grande
♡ thank u, next (album) ♡ sweetener (album)
♡ illit
♡ wonder girls
♡ pinkpantheress
♡ yena
♡ red velvet
♡ ive
♡ avril lavigne
♡ the best damn thing (album)
i also really really love these playlists on youtube of super girly cute music! ♡💬🎀
youtube
youtube
youtube
youtube
youtube
──★ ˙ ̟ '👛🧸 tv shows and movies
🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ MOVIES
♡ clueless
♡ legally blonde
♡ mean girls
♡ bratz: the movie
♡ the princess diaries
♡ 10 things i hate about you
♡ monster high: haunted
♡ marie antoinette
♡ all of the barbie movies ever
🩰𓂃 ࣪˖ SHOWS
♡ puella magi madoka
one of my favouirite favourite shows ever!!!!!!!!♡ magical girl anime, but do be warned can be quite dark at times!!!! watch with caution!!!!
♡ nana (2006)
♡ monster high
♡ lolirock!
♡ glitter force
♡ winx club
♡ totally spies!
♡ sailor moon
♡ bratz (2005)
♡ star vs the forces of evil
♡ powerpuff girls
♡ my little pony: friendship is magic
♡ barbie life in the dreamhouse
──★ ˙ ̟ '👛🧸 general media
♡ shushucherry (brand)
♡ sanrio (brand)
♡ j-fashion
♡ gyaru styles
♡ angelic pretty (brand)
♡ scrap booking
♡ blythe dolls
♡ fashion magazines
♡ girl blogging
♡ decorating
♡ vocaloid (genre)
♡ sandy liang (brand)
if there's anything i've missed or anything you'd recommend, then feel free to reply or reblog this post with those! ♡ these r all my personal favourites n ideas for the more hyperfeminine style. you don't have to be a girl to be girly! ♡
all my love! 🎀💬🐈⬛️🫶🏻🩷
#spent like an hour and a half on this with no breaks?????????????#idk bro i was really in2 this#anyway!!!!! despite the fact i am some strange amalgamation of a girl and something else i will forever love the hyperfeminine style#you dont have to be a girl to enjoy this stuff. btw#like what you want no matter what#it girlism ୨𖹭୧#girlblogging#girlhood#it girl#wonyoungism#girly tumblr#pink pilates princess#this is what makes us girls#girly stuff#it girl energy#that girl#dolly girl#glow up#becoming her#becoming that girl#girl therapy#girl code#girlworld#girlcore#this is a girlblog#im just a girl#girly#pink princess#princess
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To celebrate Valentine’s Day, I wrote a humble one-shot featuring Phantom Thief Karamatsu and Detective Shinshia, inspired by the Phantom Thief set from Hesokuri Wars lol.
It is very simple, and I did it just to cater myself LMAO. But maybe some of you find it cute✨. As a small fact, I titled the story “Alone Together”.
Story under the cut!
Finally, February was here! Heart-shaped decorations in every store, roses of different colors were seen over different parts of the city, cute sweets… last but not least, there was the romance. For a long time, this was a sour month for the sextuplets. They were phantom thieves of renown, yet they never got a single chocolate in their whole lives by their fans! It was truly demoralizing, almost as bad as Christmas.
Tradition said that women were the ones that gifted chocolate for the men they had chosen. This year, however, the blue phantom thief had a mission. An important gift to give.
Karamatsu tried so many times in the past to convey his feelings to the new detective: Shinshia Doremi. She acted rough and distant at first. “We are enemies,” she declared coldly. But in the rare moments they could spent together, her behaviour softened and the real Shinshia Doremi was exposed: a warm, yet shy girl. Sadly, everytime he tried to tell her about what he felt, someone or something would interrupt their moment together. Often their separate duties, as detective and phantom thief.
Oh, Cupid, how cruel was he! Keeping the hearts of this couple in the scale of Lady Justice, its pans so close but never together! Such a tragic fate!
Well, perhaps the vision he had of their love inside his head had evolved into something more dramatic than what it actually was in real life. But it added some excitement to whatever their situation was.
Karamatsu was no fool, either. He knew there were others interested in the girl… Mostly, his boisterous, shitty eldest. He noticed the way that idiot looked at her, and it wasn’t love. At least, not the the type of love he felt inside. The blue thief decided it was time to strike while he still had the chance, and ask her out. Subtly.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♡ ⋅.} ───── ⊰
Once more the young detective ended up being one of the few remaining people in the department. Rookies got so much paperwork, it was just ridiculous. She had to keep a dictionary close to her, too. Some of these characters looked like an amalgamation made of nightmares.
To keep boredom away, Shinshia started singing, the words echoing throughout the empty office. A soft duet, the name of which she could not call to mind at the moment. However, she did remember that it was a popular love song. It was one of the first songs she heard when she first arrived to Japan.
The sun goes to sleep once more
In this lonely time, I wonder
Is your heart dreaming of me?
The detective finished with the paper she had in front of her, and grabbed the next one in the pile. “How tedious,” she thought. She kept singing to herself.
Stars twinkle above our heads
And the moon gives us her best glowing smile
But tonight, I’ll be yours...
“... And yours alone.”
Another voice joined in with her song, singing along. Shinshia went silent and turned around, but she saw nothing besides empty desks. She went back to her paperwork, along with her song.
However, before she could sing another word, Shinshia stopped entirely when suddenly a pair of hands covered her eyes. “Who is it?” a familiar male voice asked in a sing-song tone.
“The sweet release of death, I hope.”
She resumed her work when she regained her sight as the infamous phantom thief, Karamatsu, casually leant against her desk with a subtle smile. “Long day, I presume.”
“You have no idea,” she sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears . “You should leave before someone sees you. Unless you want me to handcuff you.”
Karamatsu laughed quietly. “Heh, being helpless at your mercy sounds like a very tempting offer, darling. ” Shinshia’s face immediately flushed and he laughed again, genuinely. “But I am here to steal you away.”
“Steal me away?” Shinshia asked, not even looking away from the papers. She put some loose locks of hair behind her ear again. She was often pulling hair away from her face lately. “Sorry Karamatsu, but I have a ton of paperwork left to do. I can’t be stolen right now.”
“C’mon, Shia-chan! It won’t be for long. I’m just asking you to take a break.”
“I told you, I’m busy right n-”
The phantom thief put a hand over the paper she was writing on, and the scowling detective finally looked up at him. It was in that moment when she noticed that he was wearing casual clothes, and not his usual garish outfit filled with blue glitter. The only part that did stand out was, perhaps, the black eyepatch on his left eye. He felt triumphant over this, how she looked at him.
“Tonight, be mine alone ♪.”
After a minute of silence and a staring competition that was perhaps getting a bit too intense for the situation, Shinshia got up from her desk grumbling. “Fine. A short break.”
With a triumphant spring in his step, he suddenly scooped her up in his arms effortlessly and left the office. His plan was working so far.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♡ ⋅.} ───── ⊰
Now this was strange.
Karamatsu dragged Shinshia out of the office. That was not the strange part, but instead of avoiding crowded places like he always did, they just… kept walking. Out in the open. Walking didn’t bother her, it was just unusual. He was a famous criminal, after all. It was a miracle they left the building so easily. Or maybe the author was just too lazy to think of something smart.
Wait, author? What author? That makes no sense. Just ignore it.
It was snowing outside. Snow wasn’t common where she was from, so she still marvelled at the sight of it everytime. Despite how much she enjoyed watching the snow fall, it was still cold in the streets. So smart was she, that she forgot to grab her jacket before they left, and now she was constantly rubbing her hands together.
Karamatsu laughed. “You’ll end up setting them on fire, Shia-chan.”
Shinshia snorted. The comment was lame, yet she snorted, like the fool she was. Karamatsu took her hand on his own and blew on it, before he decided to put both of their hands inside his coat pocket. She glanced at him, noticing that he was actually doing the same at her. However, as soon as he noticed her eyes on him, Karamatsu quickly looked away and instead focused on the cars that passed by.
After spending their evening with an impromptu stroll, they finally headed back to the building. Karamatsu spent most of the time silent, which was even more unusual that this whole situation. Usually, he loved doing long monologues filled with inscrutable flowery words that probably sounded cool only in his mind. But during that evening, Karamatsu seemed focused in whatever was going through his head at the moment. Then again, Shinshia didn’t talk much herself.
The poor detective couldn’t help it! He was a man that had to be put behind bars for his crimes, she knew this. However, everytime they were together, her mind just stopped working properly. This had been happening since she actually caught him once: Karamatsu, one of the six-colored phantom thieves that stole valuable pieces of art all around the city. He was pretty popular among the youngest members of her department, some of them even called themselves his fans. That was done in secret, of course.
Shinshia knew little about the man next to her. Truth be told, she wanted to unveil that air of mystery around him by herself. Not as a detective, but as… something else. Maybe as a friend. Or maybe as something deeper. Only the author knew.
Hold on, what-- you know what, nevermind that.
First she thought, maybe she was just starstruck. After all, as soon as she arrived to that building, she was assigned to the case of the phantom thieves. Shinshia was in a country that was so different to her native Spain, and she knew no one, besides this guy. A criminal. But he kept coming back when she was alone, giving her advice and listening to her troubles… And then a bond bloomed between them. So sudden, yet so natural, as if it was destined to happen.
“Shinshia,” Karamatsu called to her softly, pulling her from her thoughts, “I have a little present for you.”
“A present? Why?”
“Just a little something I got for you! It’s fine, I promise.”
Shinshia sighed. “Well, fine.”
His eye glittered as he clasped his hands happily. Gosh, what a big baby. “Good! Close your eyes, and don’t open them until I say you can, understand?” He said that last part in English, for some reason.
Strange request, but Shinshia did what he told her anyway, and closed her eyes. She could hear Karamatsu fumbling with something- not sure with what, but it was small, she supposed. He did say it was a little something, after all. Suddenly, she felt his hands on the sides of her head, playing with the locks of her hair. He put them back, and then she felt those same hair locks being slightly pulled back by something. She feels his warm hand linger on her chin, delicately caressing along her jawline before pulling away.
“Open your eyes.”
Shinshia opened her eyes, feeling really curious about what Karamatsu did. He took out a round pocket mirror and then he showed her: a blue hair bow was holding back her hair.
Karamatsu smiled at her softly. “Your hair is growing long, Shia-chan. It keeps getting in front of your eyes, doesn’t it?” She nodded, impressed. When did he notice her annoyance at her hair? It was such an insignificant detail. “Now I can see your cute face again.”
Shinshia looked down, feeling her face warm up. “T-Thanks.”
After he put the small mirror back in its place, he took an envelope out of the same pocket. He gave it to her. It would have looked like a normal letter, if it wasn’t for the small heart on the back… And the blue glitter. So painful.
“What is this?” Shinshia took the envelope and opened it. Inside there was a single piece of black paper with text in gold letters. “An invitation?”
“Observant as always! It’d make me very happy to see you there.”
“I’m not sure, Karamatsu… this is very sudden.”
“But, Shia-chan! It will be so much fun!” Karamatsu looked at her with puppy eyes. Uh, eye. “Do it for me. Please?”
How was that working so well, what the hell. Shinshia sighed in defeat. “I will think about it.”
Feeling victorious yet again, Karamatsu took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Good night, Shia-chan. I hope to see you there.” Those were his last words before he turned around and walked away, quickly melting into the crowd. Now Shinshia Doremi was left alone at the doors of her workplace with her heart beating incredibly fast.
The detective looked down at the sparkly envelope. This thing was so shiny that it hurted to look at it for too long. It was so painful! It was so tacky!
“You're so troublesome.” she said to no one. She released a deep sigh.
She was in love with the blue phantom thief called Karamatsu.
Shinshia decided to attend to the party, after all.
She didn’t go to parties often… mostly because she wasn’t invited to any of them. But, if she was being honest with herself, the promise of meeting him again was too tempting to resist. Also, free food and drinks.
Woah. She really had to have a deep crush on the man of strange monologues, if she was going to ignore her insecurity just for him. What a guy, he was making miracles happen even when he wasn’t present.
So she got ready, donning the prettiest dress she could find inside her closet. She wore the blue bow he gifted her, and after checking herself in the mirror, she grabbed her clutch purse and left to the party.
“Even if Karamatsu isn’t there, it’s better than to be alone during Valentine’s day,” she thought as she locked the door of her house behind her.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♡ ⋅.} ───── ⊰
It was a Valentine’s dance party. It should have been obvious, considering the day it took place. But she wasn’t aware that Valentine’s Day parties existed at all. Of course they do, why wouldn’t they? Maybe the host was single as hell, and this was their attempt in trying to find a partner. Or maybe it was a Jay Gatsby trying to find their Daisy Buchanan. Yikes, hopefully not.
Also, every celebration needs a party, obviously.
Somewhere, someone in the world will throw a party for Cat Day. Maybe they will put a silly little hat on top of their cat’s head, followed by the confused pet trying to swat it away with its little paws and failing as the owner was in the floor laughing to tears.
That turned to be a very amusing thought, after all. It’d be so funny if someone celebrated Cat Day like that. She didn’t even know if Cat Day existed at all, but now she really hoped that it did.
Back to reality, Shinshia grabbed a glass from the nearest table as she looked around, moving between the many guests that were having fun together. Where in the world was Karamatsu? How could a single man wearing a black eyepatch be so difficult to find among so many colorful outfits? Pretty sure his full name was Karamatsu Sandiego. A famous thief whose signature look features a blue, glittery matching top hat and long cape. Of course, it all checked out, she just solved the case.
The detective was so into her own dumb line of thought that she didn’t notice the carpet, and her shoe caught. There was barely time to react; carpet veered up, her drink tipped forward, and suddenly the floor was very close. Extremely close. However, she hadn’t bit it, and that didn’t quite make sense. Gravity existed, and through gravity, she should have hit the floor.
There was something holding her up. A hand, which connected to an arm, which led all the way to a well-tailored suit. A delicious, familiar fragrance reached her nose.
“Well now,” a voice purred so slowly, and hands turned her to face upwards. Karamatsu’s face slowly turned into a tender smile. “I see you decided to come after all, darling.”
“Ah, well…” Shinshia really couldn’t say much with her waist held so enticingly by those hands, as warm hands brushed up against her skin and tickled. “I... I had to make sure that you didn’t steal anything! There are many people here wearing valuable jewelry, I’m sure you’d manage to steal something.”
“Heh, it seems my plans were ruined by the great Shinshia once more!” Karamatsu continued onwards with that smile just deepening at her sight, and somehow, he seemed to be leaning a bit closer. The room rang with cheery laughter, and the party carried onwards without a single glance towards the thief and the detective.
“You always seem to be,” one hand caressed its fine way up to her shoulder, “Stumbling around me. I’m starting to wonder if you are tripping on purpose now, hmmm?”
He knew well she wasn’t doing it on purpose. But before she could complain about that, he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her completely. The hand on her waist pulled her just a little closer that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. He laced his fingers with hers. “I enjoy our moments together, darling.”
The orchestra struck up a mesmerizing waltz, and Karamatsu’s eye perked up enough that Shinshia could practically see the lightbulb above his head.
“Let’s dance!” he invited her without a second thought, and Shinshia stumbled as Karamatsu guided her to the dance floor. A violin hummed and a key plucked, and then his hands were on her waist, a smile beaming away.
Unexpectedly, he was good at the waltz. What the hell, that was not fair. Shinshia found herself tripping quite a lot, and the phantom thief just chuckled everytime she crashed into his body. It didn’t seem to phase him either, he just grinned all the wider and adjusted until she fell back into rhythm.
Finally, somehow the rhythm came to Shinshia. Maybe it was the guiding steps of Karamatsu. Maybe it was the smile he gave her as she fumbled along. Or, perhaps, it was the hand he still had on her waist, caring as it kindly led her along despite her inexperience. Whatever it was, it had her steps synchronize with Karamatsu’s, and suddenly she started noticing other things: how his rings glistened in the light as Karamatsu led both of them through the swarm of couples, or how his brown eye never looked away from her face. Small details, yet they were such lovely little things that made her heart beat wildly inside the detective’s chest.
“Say, Shinshia.”
“Yes?”
“You said you came here to make sure I didn’t steal anything, right?”
Shinshia raised an eyebrow in confusion, but she nodded. Where was he going on with this? Was he actually going to do that? She told it as a joke, she didn’t want to work tonight.
“Heh, well, my beloved Shinshia... ” Karamatsu leaned down slightly and whispered. “I believe I already stole something.”
Shinshia didn’t really notice the song grew faster until a violin screeched in delight and suddenly Karamatsu was really close. When the song was over, he had dipped her just as the last violin ended with an exaggerated flourish.
Karamatsu leaned forward, his lips brushing hers, and perhaps it hadn’t been such a bad thing, tripping over her own shoe. Not when she could feel him gaze at her in rapt adoration. Not when Karamatsu had her so lovingly wrapped in his hands, and clutching as if she was the most fragile, most precious thing in the world that had happened to him.
No, perhaps it was for the best.
#Self Insert#Shinshia Doremi#Karamatsu#osomatsu san#My writing#my art#HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!! HAVE SOME CRINGE <3#the lyrics song she's singing to herself was written by me!!!#the song is called ''alone together''. hence the title lol#also yeah shia gets distracted easily by her own thoughts (bc shes me AKLSDMA)#i have no idea if valentine parties exist actually. they prolly do tho#btw if you wonder: ''Also every celebration needs a party obviously'' part?? yes it was sarcasm LMAO#more or less what you can expect in Nil Admirari#albeit the romance wouldnt happen so fast AJKSFNAJKS this is a oneshot after all
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Too Early
Being too early in a night club feels like dying young. You can see the whole thing stretching ahead of you, all the things yet undone sort of fading in a distance you will never reach.
Only young men seem to go early, stuck somewhere between the cloak room and the toilet, struggling for what was it again? The night is still young. Too young, like it will go on forever until suddenly it no longer does, and here you are -- stuck waiting for something, anything to happen.
There's a faux arcade machine in the corner, lonely and not exactly retro -- I might be the only person in the room who knows what it fails to properly reference, 90s rave aesthetic weirdly displaced by an 80s that never was, begging for change, any change, loose change, admonishing responsible drinking while sporting that accursed deer mascot, rendered unlovingly in a wireframe aesthetic that never was, unartfully ripping off that drag-and-release mechanic killed by ludic literacy and a terrible tendency towards complexity but lacking any understanding of what it's for.
Very videogame. Like a real videogame (made by love, with love), it doesn't know what it is except perfunctory and limited, potential delimited by a marketing budget and ... zero ambition? It feels unfair to judge, I'm sure the good kids at Chloroplast Games with their weak blob logo would have preferred to excel, to push a boundary or two.
But here it is, in a corner, across from the bar, most likely unseen by anyone but those who miss the bathroom queue, make a right too early, find themselves in an alcove populated only by that herbal alcohol mascot and their own misunderstanding.
I suppose part of my ennui stems from going to a rock'n'roll club an hour too early. I should have learned by now -- the party is at least half an hour away, maybe an hour even! And rock? Do I even listen to rock unironically? Am I in a position to judge this scene as anything but maybe something I missed out on ten years ago?
Hard to tell, I suppose I ended up here because the other place was shut and this seemed to have, well, open doors and some people. Maybe it was the girl who briefly held my gaze before her boyfriend arrived and pulled her back to reality?
She might have preemptively lied to me, suggested an impossible connection or at least given my half-drunk mind the illusion of one, her gaze a reminder of what I need but don't know how to get in this strange city with its strange people and strange ways.
I mean, this is just playacting anyway -- I'm not really out tonight, I'm just investing in a potential future, seeing what's up, how it's hanging, so I'll get to sleep okay tonight and not lie awake staring at the ceiling waiting for sweet nothing to embrace me so another day can promise me things it can't keep.
There's supposed to be a dance floor, but it's empty. I paid to access this emptiness -- a pittance to be sure, but it still obligates me to try, I guess, to pretend like I'm out and about; seeing town when I'm really just waiting for tomorrow, the real deal, a potentially chance date with a hairdresser who thinks it's funny she can't pronounce my name.
It's nearly as expensive too. A quarter hour of work to spend what, a couple of hours in this cellar with its post-rock and empty dance floor and cockroach I just stepped on because my peripheral vision is way acute and I can't help myself.
Tomorrow is the real deal, the real illusion, the current fantasy, the affirmation that I'm doing something other than typing out future blog posts on my phone in this cellar on this park bench as far as I can get from that Jägermeister fauxcade game only I can put in its proper cultural context.
We're 30 minutes into the cellar life and there is still hardly anyone here, meaning my initial assumption is wrong -- there's no life after midnight. It happens at some witching hour yet to pass, one I might not even get to see before I decide I've had enough and go home to find that sweet bedtime I've lied about wanting to avoid, like I've lied to myself about the severe blonde at the bar looking at me, like I've lied to myself about maybe being in the mood for rock'n'roll.
Turns out my gut feeling is true -- rock'n'roll is a state of mind divorced from the presence of that cultural touchstone rock'n'roll. If I like rock'n'roll, it's because I like that confidence and that swagger and that noise and not because I strictly enjoy real guitars and real drums.
The other people literally just left, which lends me courage to stay just a little longer to see what they will miss, if anything. I like the idea of exclusively witnessing potential lost to others. It's my inner hipster god justifying itself -- to boldly go where no man thinks there's any fun to be had, to hope that the DJ is not as lonely as me, on this early November night in a city I don't know.
Hey, worst case I have produced my most spontaneous piece of prose in whoa, a long time, wrapped in my language, a critical language, one that is knowing and distant in lieu of knowledge and distance, wrought under the very limited auspices of autocorrect. And it only cost me a fraction of the expensive alcohol I bought as soon as my invoice was reimbursed this very afternoon, the sweet Mammon I've waited for all week, months worth of rent and -- well, this.
I might be too advanced for this chance experience. I might need something less haphazard, something I know I want instead of something I maybe think I need. Healthy, though -- I have chosen to be disappointed in an effort to discover myself.
The DJ is doing good. Maybe because it's empty. He's wringing out some noise I haven't heard before, like he's loving it despite being unheard -- maybe because he's unheard by anyone but me here on my park bench that doesn't belong here in this place I don't know.
Once upon a time I would have paid for two people to nearly enjoy this emptiness but now I only spent what, one percent of my monthly fun-budget having this epiphany, this realisation that you can't win 'em all but you can reflect very, very eloquently on that belated epiphany, that sudden realisation that your princess is in another castle.
A couple just stumbled into the cellar. They are ... well, nearly gone again. They are not sitting down to write essays and reflect upon the empty dance floor. They went towards the toilets (or maybe the fauxcade machine, my view from here is limited) and then vanished.
No, this is just a trial run, a ... premature anti-climax, a preemptive disappointment before tomorrow's big whatever, the real club night where maybe I'll find my hairdresser in the crowd and we will kiss desperately because we're no longer young and want some beauty while we can still offer some of our own.
I will be on drugs and I will listen to music more suited to my state of mind, to my ironic distance, nothing as forceful as rock or whatever this undead amalgam should be called. I will lose myself even if it's not to her.
The couple found the benches too. I suppose that is the death-knell, the final proof that I am not an outsider here as I touchscreen-type this little screed. I am just ahead of my time, settling into the non-event I could see not unfolding before me even hours ago, even before I left my new home to find something new, something I'm not bored by or angry at yet.
They are smiling and laughing. They have, like me, paid to be here and like me they are making the most of their bad investment, listening to the really quite great music and trying to ignore the fact no-one else is.
Entrance came with a free drink. I should go to the bathroom then claim it and have a cigarette. Maybe I will emerge to find the dance floor filled. Or maybe I will sow the seeds of that throat cancer I so desperately hope won't eat my voice before I get famous.
Either way, the new me is yielding something, rock'n'roller or not. This is something. This would not have happened just a week ago, and the price is very, very low compared to the cost of all those empty moments I have wasted these last few years.
Love is a lonely thing, and the more time I spend alone the more I come to understand, accept and -- yes -- kind of relish in it. The couple are talking over the loud music and I am typing this on the world's worst typewriter as I bury my rock'n'roll persona and head past the advergame, past the empty dance floor, towards the toilets so I can emerge and provoke that cancer I hope will pass me by and grab someone else by the throat so I can live forever.
Hey, unlike the DJ, I am free to leave. And in the grand scheme of things, I am paid more for my time here than he is.
On my way out, I stop for that smoke. A cute Italian girl asks me whether there’s anyone dancing downstairs. I let her know it’s dead. She’s disappointed, since she wants something -- anything -- but reggaeton. I argue in favour of reggaeton, my contrarian streak flaring up like a shooting star, and she thinks I’m funny.
I leave, and I get all the way home (which is only a ten minute walk, granted) before I realize I am drunk and I am not sleepy, and I decide fuck it, I might as well stay out. I head back.
She’s not there anymore. I convince myself this was just a trial run. Tomorrow is hairdresser day, and I need to be awake, alert and in a party mood for that. I am only half-convinced, but really -- I don’t have much else to believe in. So I live and I learn. And I won’t go out too early again. Except maybe tomorrow because I wanna be there before the place fills up so I can spot her or she can spot me and I can say hi, I’m here, just like I said I would be, and she will smile and it will be like tonight never happened.
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