We all have our demons, this much is true. As of late, I realized I have terrible coping skills. Be it celebration or mourning, I'm probably dranked and shakin' that. Never underestimate the therapeutic qualities of dancing badly.
I recently entered the club scene, even a greasy dungeon can become a Shangri la of inner peace with the right crowd of dancing freaks. I especially liked meeting Club Ke$ha last night, she was crrraaaaazzzayyyy! As much as I am sure I would regret seeing myself cut loose on the dance floor with a giant-backcombed-haired, leather vest wearing party girl, it was nice to see someone who was far less of a crazy mess than me.
There is something to be said for the powers of distraction.
It was a pleasant contrast to the catatonic gaze that's been plastered on my face for the last few weeks in anticipation of impending doom.