56. Deathrow High

I’m not done. I rode the energy of the revellers as if I were surfing on ocean waves. The room is pack. With heads bobbing up and down, it looked no different from a sea. And right now (besides Norman) I was above the rest. My confidence surged like an erection enjoying the voluptuous attention.

With rapid increase, I accepted my role as man and made Ai Leen feel as a woman should. We didn’t do much, just some teasing moves. I mildly fondled her breasts at times, and believed to be the envy of the male population.

Whenever Fat Boy spun out a recognizable hit like Praise You or Bird of Prey the crowd erupted. A wonder I found I could dance; more than just the Holy Ghost Hop, it was real moves with cool steps and interesting formations. I surprised myself. This is the first of which I mastered a trick effortlessly. As I’ve said, it was waiting for me. My gifts and my talents impatiently yearn for me to exploit them. That’s why I always feel so pressured inside. My expression wishes to burst forth and I repress it like the way I repress Ai Leen’s choice of clothes. It all flows from the same source. Repression is repression. The reason I do it is simple…fear.

Now, fear is absent. No fear. The only essence within is a rush. I sense I’d hit a goldmine, a high addict’s lottery. I became obsessed with discovering myself. Like a child noticing his or her genitals for the first time, I kept on ‘playing with mine’. This takes me back to the year I was two, when I realized the potential of my tiny tap. It could do more than squirt urine. It could bring me pleasure. Now I find that I have more penises than one! And if I rub them the right way, they’ll all blossom like mushrooms and grant me greater delight and amusement. Imagine me with multiple cocks sticking out!

I want to paint, take up an instrument, drive in Formula 1… It’s just there…it’s just there. Fantasies include picking up a brush and turning into a maestro, creating art like that nude sculpture of David, blowing a trumpet like Dizzy Gillespie, shooting off at high speed in a cockpit…the list goes on.

I didn’t feel like wasting time anymore. I ain’t young. Put it plainly, I don’t have long to live in comparison to the dreams I have rotating in my head. As Fat Boy played on, and Ai Leen and I danced feverishly, I vowed to do something with my life…as soon as this rave is over…

AI generated art prompted by author except for images of David, Dizzy & F1

All characters and events, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental