It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when i slept so soft against her, oh lover, you should have come over.

So told to be there at 9:30pm, there's a huge line of plastic fantastic people, youngins, oldins, all in about $300 worth of clothes each and oozing pretentiousness out of every pore, i wait fifteen minutes, talk to the people on my left in the line, spaz's, talk to the people on my right, spaz's, finally some decent people join me in the line and have a good chat, at this time i am sure there's more people in the line than the actual club. Sms's are about ten minutes apart and i've been there fourty minutes having rung out the phone eight times and waiting for a call i figure is not going to come.

I jump in the car, crank up some jeff buckley and start heading to the place i know i should be.

There's no line at all, just a friendly bouncer who greets me by my first name as I walk in the door and spot two familiar faces straight away. The bartenders wave to me while smiling and saying my name, i get hugs (not handshakes) from my old friends, we chat like we haven't seen each other in ages..... It has been ages since i've been here. The music is funky, it is chilled, it's not loud, it's not cramped, there's that familiar smell, that familiar atmosphere, the place is filled with a variety of people, culture and ages. A collection of people more varied than any other place you'd find in the city, friendly faces, open hearts, open minds, mouths willing to talk and ears willing to listen. Brains willing to learn and to teach, artists bonding with artists, outcasts with outcasts, the people here could not be more of strangers to eachother, but at the same time they are as close as a "hey how are you" and a friendly smile. I kick back on my chair, breathe it all in, i make friends with the strangers to my left and laugh with my friends on the right. There was no chance of a conversation like this where i started my night, deep, interesting, filling conversation, so thick that you can slow it down to a snail pace and it's still interesting. You hang off every word because every word is interesting, these people have real stories, real experiences and you like hearing every word they say because it's original and comes from a place so true. They are travellers, they are artists, they are musicians, they are activists, they are students, the intellectuals, they are my friends that i've made and friends i could meet.

I walk up to the bar to get a drink and a friend i have been missing walks in and i smile a smile bigger than all that has been smiled the last few weeks, we spot eachother and another hug is shared, we order our dinner, he has no cash but i happily pay because we are brothers in this place, here you never seem to have any friends go, you only seem to have friends arrive. Our numbers increase, from old friends to new friends we sit, we share pizza, we buy eachother beers, we move to the couches, the smiling never stops.

I spot two cute girls walking past and they sit across from us, my friend and i decide they should join us, i walk straight over, introduce myself and they laugh, they smile, they love it, they come over and we begin talking. More soon-to-be-friends arrive and are converted to the fold. An activist, a hippy, an alcoholic ;), my friend, myself, and two cute girls. We chat, we drink, we enjoy ourselves. We move about the couches effortlessly and naturally, conversations flowing every which way, combining, disecting, forming, disipating, but there is never any silence, and there is never an end to the smiles, or the respect. This is so unlike the place i started my night at.

The night winds on and one of the cute girls is suddenly holding my hand as i lead her to a warm lighted corner, we share a kiss with the sweetness of that i-just-met-you-an-hour-ago niceness and she dips her head into my shoulder and i cradle it there. We share the comfort of eachother's lips, and eachother's embrace, strangers only 62 minutes earlier.

I walk back to my couch, and the man who is more the brother than the two i really have has arrived. An important part of my life, an advisor, a friend, a brother i had not seen in months, only had short and abrupt phone conversations filled with frailed attempts to catch up, neither having the time or the money. There is no talk but the feelings are there, feelings are not held back here, they are spread like a warm rug in the winter, covering you, making you safe, warm, protected, loved. It is tough to do this, this is honesty, this is real life, these are the tough people, the people you want by yourside at a crisis, the people you want at your wedding, and at your funeral. One of the girls with my brother blatantly offers to have sex with me in the toilets, i politely pass it up but tell her i'm flattered, we laugh, it is not awkward, this is the place of truth and honesty, sex, drugs, anything is free here. My place to be myself, to be unashamed, to let go, to be free, from all hestitation, all fear, to embrace our own uniqueness, and let our souls shine through unhindered, and proud.

kirk out.