It always starts the same way. You drink a glass or two or even more with friends intoxicated and cracking up at every stupid joke you'd say. You end up saying you'd love to go to a club to dance and make the integrity of your corrupted soul dance and cry with joy on a concrete floor feeling safe and sound around sad persons looking for a little bit of hallucination. You say you'd die for it ; for the last drop of sanity gushing through your lungs out of your soul longing for salvation. The dancing complex swallows you whole making you fall into oblivion and yet you can still feel the outside world waiting for you to pay your rent and go back to work and get sick of it once more until you can't help but wonder when you're gonna feel that false freedom again.