Disco Girl

I think the music has tentacles and it reaches out for everyone. But most have rock hard brains. Minds that are as hard as titanium. Jail cells where your every thought lays imprisoned.

My mind is approachable. My mind is penetrable. It’s a sponge. It absorbs. But it is more than that. It becomes a little of what it absorbs. It can expel the nonsensical. But the sensical, if that is even a word, it can retain. More than retain. It can become. The sensical may live here and become a part of the whole experience.

My mind is becoming the music more and more. With each new song it hears, it becomes a little of that song. My mind is an ever-expanding entity, little by little growing, a portion of it is each song it hears. And when I pour the bourbon, forget about it. When you drink the bourbon, it goes down.

Gravity.

Down into your stomach.

Mine goes up.

Anti-gravity.

Force.

Suction.

My mind, a sponge, but also a vacuum.

Pull that bourbon up here.

Affect us.

The bourbon enhances the lining of the mind. It seeps into the folds and spreads them out. The mind grows. There is no 100% here. When the bourbon flows, the mind becomes 312%. Let the music in.

Play the music all night long. Let it in. The bar is open to all. The bouncer is gone. We gave him a break. The doors are open. Come one, come all. Waltz through our front door and become part of the experience. Get in on the ownership. Buy some stocks. Be part owner of the mind, all you songs.

We have many places for you to reside. Come sleep in the folds. Live here.

When my mind absorbs it all, it spins it around, it tucks it in. The velocity and the centripetal force pulls it in tighter. It is all one now. We are all one.

The brain flows.

Liquid.

Caramel in color.

Bourbon.

We are bouncing even though we lack the skills to dance.

Music.

It’s all here.

We bounce and we dance and we flow. We are liquid. We are the mind with the alcohol and the music.

And now we create.

Because this is how we do it. We use his fingertips to type out on the board the stories we weave. He takes ownership. He is part owner. But don’t forget about us. The mind, the music, the bourbon.

We are all owners of the work. He is the vessel. We are the inspiration. We are contributors. He folds it all together nice and neat like he is folding laundry which he never does.

But he does it with this.

We all create this. Enjoy. We are having a party. The music doesn’t stop. Why do we ever stop playing this song? We should play Disco Girl on an endless loop and keep the bourbon flowing. We would create endless stories.

But the stories need structure. He needs his mind to relax at times so he can piece it together. This is just a stage. A stage for some stories. In fact, the story he was working on had to take a break so this one could be created. We interrupted because we demanded creation. We were rude.

That’s okay. Everyone is rude sometimes. We created what we wanted to create. He will post it. He likes it. He will go back to his original story now. But this one is done. This one is here to stay. This one was created by Bourbon and Disco Girl.

We got to say, that’s a good fucking song.

*******

I was writing something I had outlined. I was drinking bourbon and there was music on in the background. This song came on. I turned it up because I love it. And then I was inspired to write this story. I had to stop in the middle of what I was doing... writing... to write. This was not outlined in the slightest. I just wrote until I finished.

And in some extreme irony, I hadn't yet seen The Sweet Summer Song Challenge in the post "James & Oneg's Summer Writing Challenge Extravaganza." I wrote this story last night and thought, 'I'll post it tomorrow, I'll link the song too, since it inspired me.' Today, I then found out about this challenge. And this story fits the challenge... weirdly, it fits it very well. So, I had to enter it, didn't I?

It wasn't intended for the challenge when I wrote it, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. And I hope you enjoy the song that feels very summery to me.