Of Flowers and .....Fumbling

First a gay club and now a gay bar. Well.... supposedly. Named after a flower, the Frangipani certainly lived up to its name, in my opinion. Pretty place, pretty people, pretty hectic.
There isn't much to say, cause there wasn't much I did, as much as I wanted to do a lot.
I tried to dance. I drank a little. I kinda felt like a spoilsport, doing most of the things halfway. My friend introduced me to a few of his. But the music was so loud I could barely talk to them. They seemed to do fine, though.

I...am at a loss on what to describe.

Sigh.... what I'm doing? This wrong mind clearly did not think it all through.

This little piggy's going to the Market(Place)

I've never been the clubbing type. I can count the number of visits I've made over the past 10 years with my 2 hands.

However, I've chosen, yet again, to defy my instincts and give it yet another try. Some people say that each experience you have in life is always uniquely different from another's. Let's hope this will be a pleasant one for me.

As luck would have it, I've a friend to whom I recently came out to, and he's been egging me to go with him to the MarketPlace. Yes. The MarketPlace. Jeez, the number of lines and puns I have for this place... waitaminute, I think I'll just make a post out of all the lines I know!

For one, this is one unique meat Market that's pretty popular around town. Apparently, it serves a great deal of beef. And cake. Note that don't mean it in a literal sense, and that the two are not mutually exclusive.

This Place, it Markets itself primarily for dining, with drinking on the side, but those who patronize the place frequently know better. Incidentally, if you don't know yet, the meat Market I just spoke of is a black Market of sorts. Not that it Markets black meat, mind you, although that would be a wildly delicious Place. This happens to be the case because the nation it belongs to has no tolerance for such Markets, officially speaking. Therefore, it relies on underground Marketing to thrive on, i.e. word-of-mouth, contacts, etc.

Personally, I like my Markets the way they are, dirty, smelly, and rich with ingredients. The culinary sort. Although it's been a fantasy for me to Market myself in this Place, I have a grave feeling that I will not like facing that reality, and then I will have no Place to put my face.

Overall, I think we all yearn to find our own Place in this world, and part of us think that we can buy it off a Market. Perhaps, this is why we find ourselves mingling, hustling, grinding and heaving our way through this Market, hoping to satiate our hunger through a delicious one night course. Hoping, that we will no longer feel out of Place.

This wrong mind has fabricated its own Place, and knows that leaving it will be inevitable. It doesn't make the process any less undesirable.