I went for a Masquerade party lastnight.
It would've been cool if everyone dressed up for the occassion but the whole invitation didn't really highlight that bit of the night.
It was fun and funny. Jay was actually. He was like poppin and lockin, grooving to the silence of smokers, laughter, and permanent stares. He was the entertainment clown of the night. But too bad he collapsed in bed before any of us headed back. My impression of Jay has 360'd, from a quiet emo boy to a hardcore masquerade clown.
The Clowns on the left. Not the right.
It was a simple night, but good the way it was. Conversations were based on rare drags, music, poisonous laughter, and killing the awkwardness between strangers in the big SMOKEY room. It was pleasant though.
Then I thought to myself that I should throw one of these Masquerade parties one day. And that the dresscode should be taken more seriously by our very own voluntary bouncers. Won't that be cooler? Well scrap that, let's move on to the frolicsome images we have here.
It's been a while for girls like us. The ones that party poop.
The Great Fall of Mankind
Murder at the utmost degree
Jay: How are my moves? Wasn't too good ay?
Me: What? Noooo..don't be hatin'..you were amazing right there. Jay-T mang.
Jay: Thanks, i'm gonna go get the hang of it now.
(he moves into the middle and starts to get his groove on)
Me: Yeah you go Jay. (I say, without a stir of confidence)
I'm getting hungry from blogging. Takes a lot of effort man. Sometimes when I feel rajin and all, I'll type with inspiration and passion and whatever ion there is in the world to describe that hardworking feeling. But now I feel like soup in a fancy bowl.
I'll leave you to this:
The Man of our 5 hours
so long, farewell.