…The operative word here being people. I mean isn’t that what really makes a party. After all, everyone of us has his/her personal preference in entertainment, ambiance and libations, but don’t the right people make it better when one of the above isn’t ideal? And, when all of those conditions are perfect, isn’t it euphoric to see someone else you enjoy/love taking as much or more pleasure in the moment as you are? That’s why God invented invitations right?

Not coincidentally these very same things that are so enjoyable to share can easily cause one to lose sight of the latter in favor of the former. Forming the masses of individual party people into a faceless mob of expectations, opinions, and/or services to render. No more party persons, just interchangeable place holders in the disposable one size fits all sort of celebrity bar culture that pervades our night life.

Losing the forest in the trees, our hero inevitably begins to wonder, “What the phuck happened to the damn party? Everyone is here. I recall purchasing some beverages, partaking in the usual party favors. I hear my new favorite song, and yet where is that festive sense of jubilation my very person and identity have come to thrive on so much, where!?”

Fear not, weary party goer, for it has not gone far. It’s there buried deep beneath the status, the pretense, the competition, the ambition, the free shit, the insecurities, the anxiety, the recognition. Somewhere, misplaced amongst all the casual sex and over indulgence, tangled up in the gossip and small talk about those oh so awkward and incestuous relationships the scene inevitably breeds. It’s drowning in our reputations, strangled by the money we’re both spending and making alike.

It’s waiting for you to get out of your way.

Find a friend (or at least a friendly face), let them know you consider them so, and get back in touch with the people and go find your party…people.

Written for your scrutiny.

P.S. #missedyall#