For the few hours that I spent waiting, only one feeling came, the feeling of content. In this situation I was not sent an invitation and I was not sure if the invitation my friend received was valid. Everyone was there for the same reason, either waiting to go in or waiting for someone to come out. There was no sexism, or racial segregation. You did not have to be of a certain age or body type to be invited, but you did have to have a verification number, a reference. It was almost like who ever was throwing this party did not know the importance of the people attending. Just like everything else in the world the matter of importance takes a back seat to the collection of money and who you know.
It was hard to tell who was invited to the party and who was just escorting their loved ones/friends because they all shared the same emotional existence. The only way to tell the difference was to wait until their name was called and examine the attentiveness and eagerness that was exerted while they went towards the cynosure. You can see how the guests shut out the rest of the world and focus distinctly on the announcer who greets all of her guests with the same energy and excitement. This energy was returned by all attenders, tenfold.
I wondered why were these these party goers not showing their excitement/outrage/anger/sadness? Were they portraying the idea that they were content to control themselves or were they trying to control the people around them? It looked like if even one thing fell out of place then the whole place would explode with emotion. One party goer could not help herself from showing signs of unease. The pent-up energy in side her was forcing itself out through her legs, franticly moving them up and down like pistons in an engine. Her coffee cup (that had been empty for some time now) was being used use as an instrument, her mind had been too clouded to come to the conclusion that maybe she should throw it away.
You could hear the same question going through everyone’s minds “why was I invited?” The question is unanswerable, only a blind form of problem solving can be done, an investigation into your past, the things you’ve done. Maybe that is where the invite lies, in your food, your jobs or the decisions that you have made throughout your life. The real answer will never be known, all that we have now is the outcome, the invitation and this is not a party that you are allowed to miss.
Lost, but slightly educated. 