Sunday, April 12, 2020
The world of freedom Essay Example For Students
The world of freedom Essay If you have ever opened the midnight color doors, you have been in the world know as DV8. A world within a dance club, where they have forgotten labels, they have remembered images, and they have found true freedom. Welcome to the hottest dance club on Thursday nights. A placed called DV8. Where once a week some of the worlds greatest D.J.s come to spin their records on their turntables. Where some of the greatest rave dancers, come to dance. Where everyone comes together for one magical night in heaven. As you enter the doors of DV8 a bouncer will ask for you I.D. Oh yes. I pulled out my licence with as I trembled. 18 the bouncer says with an attitude. Everyone has an attitude in the dance clubs. They call it the survival of the fittest. To have survived and to be noticed you must carry yourself as if you were somebody important and as if you were too busy to be bothered with people. This is all part of the game. Everybody wants to be the hunter but not the prey. We will write a custom essay on The world of freedom specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now As I leave the front door, the bouncer started to fight with the person behind me. Sorry man, this is a fake, says the bouncer who weighs at least 200 lbs. He was a muscular man in his late twenties. Nobody would mess with him but the man behind me thought he could. They started to argue, but I just continued my journey into the world of fantasy. Looking around, I could not believe my eyes. There were so many beautiful men and women talking to each another. Clothes were almost too expensive to touch, yet to underground to been seen in the daylight. Realizing how beautiful these people were, I began to feel self-conscious about myself. Do I fit in? Do I belong here, I ask myself? Then, like a flash of lighting it hit me, the sounds, the beats, and the music. The sound had entered my soul like a deadly disease. I did not realize it was there, but when you did it was too late. Your body had already lost control. The music had made you feel like you were as free as the lights creeping into the smallest corners of the club and as free as the enchanting beats of the night. Nobody was safe from the music not even me. However, I decided to glance around and mingle before I entered the dance floor. Noticing a few friends of mine, I ran up to them like I had not seemed them in years. Now I began to feel a little more comfortable with myself. Nothing much. Just hanging out. Trying to get ready to show off my new dance moves., Erin said as she was standing there with a drink in her hand. Erin was a small young woman about 5 4, but nobody could miss her. Her dark hazel eyes and light curly brown hair sparkled throughout the room. Erin introduces me to her friends, Jason and Eric. I could not believe these people were college students by day and living dancing vampires by night. They had forgotten the labels of society in this club. One could be totally free with themselves and nobody was going to judge them. I think there was also something in the atmosphere that night, a sense of freedom. Williams 3 Erin took me around and showed me all the best places to hang out. We sat on an old retro couch next to the dance floor. We watched the many nameless faces dance. Moving their bodies as if they were liquid, flowing from one end to another. All of this totally amazed me. The movements, the rhythm, and the sounds. .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc , .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .postImageUrl , .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc , .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc:hover , .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc:visited , .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc:active { border:0!important; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc:active , .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .uf72eb0ddd5d8a2f525dc61cc27dad9fc:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Strategic Marketing - Case O F Sa Sa EssaySounds were coming from an upstairs booth. Who was making these sounds? Were they coming from a CD?, I asked myself. Erin noticed the puzzled look on my face and asked me what was the matter. Where is all of the music coming from?She pointed her finger into the air and across the dance floor toward a booth. Lights and posters, advertising new techno sounds and new D.J., that surrounded the booth. It is coming from there. There is a worlds famous D.J. in there, playing some of Europes hottest techno music. Isnt great?Well he is spinning records on a turntable. That is how he makes his music, she tells me with such enthusiasm. COME ON! LETS DANCE!Erin grabs my arm and we were on the dance floor. She did something called raving. It is almost like the robot dance from the 80s. I caught on quick and was dancing like never before. The music had taken control now and I was not going to be stopped.Erin and her friends began to get tired and sat out on the last few dances but not me. I was lost forever into a world of my own. Finally the lights had come on and the music had stopped. The night was finally over and my first experience at DV8 had ended. Sweating from dancing for almost two hours straight I went over to Erin to give her a goodbye hug. Oh very much so. What an experience.However, that is when I realized how lonely and depressing a club looks when it about to close. The floors are cover with beer bottles, paper, and dirt. Almost everyone looks like theyre drunk and going home with somebody they do not know. It was as if everyone had lost their heaven and was going back to their coffins before the sunlight hit. Nevertheless, they would be all back next week. Ready to dance away their labels, to produce images, and find something one could only find at a club. Freedom. Bibliography:
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