You

At a club you can be someone different. No one knows you, and you’ll never see anyone again. If you do, chances are you won’t remember them, just as they won’t recognise you.

You can have a different name, style, job, anything you’d like to change about yourself, or anything you’re bored with. A night out is an excuse to let yourself go and let the repressed you out of its cage.

You can be as wild as you want. Forget your prior commitments and enjoy yourself. Have a couple more drinks. Feel your mind blur and your senses dwindle.

Music booming, lights flashing intermittently, people dancing, well or not it doesn’t really matter in a club. Drinks being dished out and splashing your menacing high-heeled shoes. People smoking letting out a nuclear bomb mushroom cloud of smoke above them, the air heating up, people moving closer together, voluntarily or not.

People start really getting into the music. They move seductively and glance in your direction. All the attention starts to be a burden. People move around on the dance-floor, an affair that resembles a Tetris game – you try to box yourself in the most strategic place.

You’ve forgotten where you are. Yet no one knows you. You don’t know you. You aren’t you. Not tonight anyway.