Euphoric Transformations

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The warmth kisses our frozen cheeks as we enter through the main door. We are welcomed by the wild, pulsating beats that immediately invade our eardrums. Instantly the feeling of agility courses through our bodies.

We take off our jackets and are lured down the corridor and into the main hall.

Temperatures rise as the second blast of warmth hits our faces. Bodies of all shapes, colors and sizes surround us. We, as the others before us become combined, intertwined, and become one with the music.

Chemical imbalance, intoxication, the feeling of euphoria.

The music transforms us into its army and we are lost without it. We are at the fingertips of the DJ who controls the music, which controls us. Our own free will vanishes as we become overpowered.

We can do nothing, but obey.

As the number of dancers grow the infectious grooves only get faster and more intense. Beads of sweat fall to the floor like rain to the earth outside.

We continue to shimmer and sway as our blood rushes and our breathing gets heavier. The chemistry continues as we continue to dance amongst each other perfectly. Giving each other space, yet at the same time invading each others space.

Yet as time flows on we begin to glide across the dance floor, dancing to please, we put each other at ease. The beats continue to possess our bodies. Our minds are at loss, and our bodies are in control.

Causing us only to stop when complete and utter exhaustion takes place.
Last edited by Fabien on Sun Jun 10, 2007 12:30 am, edited 2 times in total.
The surrounding world
was an ugly one,
but we needed no beauty
other than the light
within each other's eyes. - "Modern World" * topic15452




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okay, that first sentence doesnt make any sense. Did you make sure to spell check?




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Hullo Fabien!


The warmth kisses our frozen cheeksas

Cheeksas? Shoudl this be cheeks?

I liked this, you're writing is very poetic, descriptive and it works very well, I noticed that you write more poetry, but more prose would be nice to see from you as you can write it very well!

All the best,
Meevs
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Bag.

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Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
— Thomas Gray