vampires

You know who they are.

The creatures that only appear when the sun goes down, lit by the dim glow of the stars. They are reminiscent of the moon, providing energy that has, more often than not, been sponged off someone else. And when the sun comes back up it burns their eyes as the decay of the night is exposed.

The night has some ethereal magic to it. Anything can happen under the cloak of darkness. There are fewer witnesses, fewer judgements. It is bursting with potential, capable of being filled with anything and everything. It holds the promise of tomorrow, a seemingly distant time when you can deal with consequence and necessities. Those with the means are often determined to take advantage of the night. 

That's what they love. Having beautiful young things to talk to and give their attention to making them feel important. When you meet people who were actually worth spending time with they loved the beautiful youth of these girls too but they also needed some intellectual stimulation. In actuality, this truth has been around for generations, if you are young and beautiful men want to talk to you and therefore you will be given things for free. That is where the promoters come in. They are monetising this. They have all the control when in reality without you they have nothing.

By being an escape are we just running away from reality? Can day and night be separated in such a way that what happens in one only affects that arena, given you are still able to function in the day post-party? What of those vampires for whom the night is their day, it is not their escape for it is their necessity? It is from your entertainment, filling your bodies with poison until you forget the problems from your day, that they thrive. But in this world where everything is a trade, even conversation is a trade of information and consequently trust, how are we to interpret what is being marketed as free: free entrance, free drinks? I suppose this is one of those environments where feminism is truly lacking, for whilst girls are still able to exploit the advantages that come with their breasts they will be treated like one who hasn’t earnt their place there. The stories I have heard, where assault is as common as consensual sex and transparency of intentions is as rare as love. In their language 'no' means 'convince me'. Are we using them for our enjoyment, for if your life is wholly in this dog-eat-dog world of nightlife is there anyone you can trust without it being a transaction of utility?

You are sold on the cover, it tells you everything you want it to. You see the photos on Instagram and Facebook, where a picture may tell 1,000 words, but you must keep in mind that there are 10,000 in this story and those you are shown are merely a facade. It is not the reality merely how they want you to perceive it, drowsy with inebriation. Instead it is best not to get caught up in the social politics of it all. To remain detached and continue to dance, to stop thinking for there is no time to think, all that matters is where the next beat is coming from and where your body will take you. Just don’t trip and fall out of the dream. Keep day and night separate, and those secrets for the stars.

Only alive when the sun is dead, once
you can no longer see what’s ahead.
Beautiful bodies bathe in starlight.
Cocked-tall, smoke-perfumed, and blurry-eyed.

We all look alike, lost in the night.
Blindly follow our noses to find the line.
Hunting for a taste of real life, yet
running further from it at the same time. 

Forgetting the burning sun will reappear
and the decay of the night soon laid bare.
Forced to confront the cold reality,
consequences of our stolen vitality. 

But freshened up and caught outside,
you’d never see through our disguise.
We’re everywhere, more than you’d tell,
Ready to suck you on the hunt as well.