Bloody Trap

During my trip back to Myanmar, when my friends in Myanmar were trying to plan on going to a rave together, they asked me if I wanted to come with them. Being in Myanmar only for a few days and I would rather spend more time with my family. I told them no, which they were all ok with. However, when I told them that I had never been to a rave, this was when I found out that sometimes, people actually assumed some things out of me, which I might have never done before. Yes, they were surprised and most of them even refused to believe that I had never been to a rave before.

A few days ago, my friend asked me if I wanted to go with her and a bunch of her friends to a trap gig, I said yes right away. Yes, life is short and preaching #yolo, I agreed to try new things in my life. Now, I am not a stranger to trap music and being a songwriter who’s constantly on a watch over the evolution of music, I am well aware of how trap music has somewhat dominate some part of pop culture. However, I have never been to a trap gig before. How is this even a gig? I somewhat see this as a mini rave where you have DJ’s playing music on stage for people to dance with.

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It was at Oxford Art factory and I have to admit I do love the venue. It was small, yet cozy. Arty, yet not pretentious. Daring, yet not loud. I got there at 9 pm and the supporting act just kept going on and on until 1 am. There were altogether four DJ changes before the actual main act, this famous local trap DJ called Enschway, got up on stage to DJ.

I have seen and heard of mosh pits but this was the first ever time I have ever seen a trap gig mosh pit. I have never imagine people moshing to the trap beat but it kinda works. The cool thing about mosh pits in this gig was how friendly and united people are. In Myanmar, it would take people ages to warm up to get their butts on the dance floor. Here, at this gig, people were just so united bopping their heads in unison to the beat. Then, there was this mosh pit in the centre where mostly guys would get inside and push each other. They would push each other and some of them would actually fall down from pushing each other. I thought there was going to be a fight at any second but no, these people were smiling and laughing at each other and they would pick each other up when they fall. It was somewhat dangerous, but cute. I’m all up for anything when it comes to peace.

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After 30 minutes into the main act, although I have to admit how it was no surprise that Enschway is popular. I was getting so tired of being on the dancefloor. Maybe it was the energy of the crowd but it also seemed as if the crowd was getting much more energetic as well. I decided to go up the stairs away from the dancefloor and just view the crowd. It was a good view from the top. Head bopping in unison and people so actively pushing each other in the mosh pit, all for the sake of fun.

My friend came and called me down. At first, I was not going to go down but then, given they said they would be leaving in 30 minutes, I decided to go down and have some fun. Now, there was this chick there who kept dancing cray cray and she kept pushing others, including my friend and me. She would put her hands on our shoulders. It was not offensive and it’s nice to see her having ultimate fun being all friendly with anyone around her. However, when my friend told me how he thought she is on drugs, I had to agree.

While I was bopping my head to the final 30 minutes of the night, suddenly the mosh pit got violent. My friends and I did stay away at a distance. No matter how much we thought we were at a safe zone, some distance away from the mosh pit, it was not safe enough. And something did stop me from going back to the dancefloor but I just had to go back down there to be with my friend, although I did not want to be down there. It was then and there that when I looked up, I saw the back of my friend’s head coming towards my face and before I knew what was happening, his head thudded heavily into my face and my nose started bleeding a waterfall of blood.

I thought it was just a simple cut or just my veins bursting from the heat of the night. Nope, it was an injury of some sort. It was then that that girl, who my friend and I thought was on drugs, came to me and asked me if I were ok. I was ok and the only thing that was lingering at that time in my head was how I would not be happy if I ended up with a broken nose and which surgeon should I go to for a nose job. Thailand or Korea? Yes, that was what was in my head. As I looked up at the girl to say I am ok, my nose started to bleed more until there was a flood of unstoppable flow of blood rushed out of my nostril. Then, my friend and that girl led me to the security guard.

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This is what’s good about Australia I guess. The security guard asked me to sit down and took care of me. There was this guy from the bar, who I am pretty sure is someone who has medic experience, came to me and gave me a tissue with some liquid in it and asked me to put it in my nose. He said “it would sting”. I cringed. I hate things that sting. But, to my surprise, it did not sting at all. I was also lucky that my friend’s boyfriend was actually a boxer, a boxing fighter. He asked me if I were breathing normal. This was ok and I was indeed breathing normally. He assured me as long as I was breathing normally, it would mean that I had not broken any bones. Yay! No more surgery needed.

As much as I did not feel anything much and surprisingly not freaked out for the amount of blood I have on my face, I was calm. I was ok. However, everyone around me was stressing out making sure I was ok. I can’t blame them. The blood took some time to stop dripping and it was just a massive amount of blood.

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So yeah it was my first trap gig and the first time I bled in a night club. I almost felt like a manly man, walking out of the club with a blood stained shirt. I am not sure if people looked but I made sure I took off the shirt that had blood stains on it before people start thinking that I got into some fight. Quite a night! Quite an experience! You only live once and hopefully, you only bleed once!

Serial Pick-Up Hunter

jan25-1It has been a while since I last went to Oxford Street, especially to those gay venues as part of my social life. Pubs and clubs on Oxford Street used to be my Friday ‘to go to’s but it has been a while since I last went to them. Mainly because I do not have any reasons to and it’s getting a bit too repetitive anyways. But, once in a while, it ain’t bad. Especially on a week day night before a holiday.

Tomorrow being an Australian Day, I was more than excited to go out tonight since it has been a while since I have last gone out. Two of my close friends came with me and it felt great to be out with them once again. So, once again, we were all at Stonewall, my favorite gay pub in Sydney. Well, I do like the other ones too but I seem to go to Stonewall a lot more than the others.

So, it was a malebox night at Stonewall. If you do not know what a malebox is, it’s when people coming in the pub needs to take a sticker each, that has numbers on it ans stick it on them. There are empty papers around the pubs, with pen. What you can do is to write a message to your favorite number. There’s a “to”, which is the number of the guy you want to pass your message to and a “from”, which is your number. I am not so sure if anyone takes it seriously but my friend and I ended up writing really bad one liners to random numbers.

I met RBF (Resting Bitch Face) there at Stonewall. RBF and I go way back. During my uni years in Sydney, I would always see him in clubs or pubs. He’s around six years older than me and he and I would always flirt but we have never picked up before. With a resting bitch face, I would feel a bit scared to communicate with him. Upon coming back here, I bumped into him and I’ve chatted to him on Grindr. It so turned out that he was into me and we decided we should meet up for sex at some point. I thought tonight could have been the night but something really turned me off about him tonight.

As I’ve mentioned, I was there with two friends. One had 711 as his number and the other one had another number, which I’ve forgotten. The other friend and I started writing a message for 711 just to tease him. With a number like that, it was just too easy to come up with something cheeky. “Can your legs stay open twenty four hours a day?” Too easy!

Oh! I’ve forgotten to mention how these messages are retrieved. These messages are placed inside this red mailbox on the stage at the corner of the pub where drag queens usually perform. The staffs in the pub would take round collecting these messages and upon retrieving them, they would write down these numbers and these numbers will be shown on the huge TV screen in the middle of the pub. If you see your number, you can go take the messages addressed to you.

The number 711 appeared twice on the screen. My other friend and I were sure one of them was ours and we were really curious about the other message. Funnily and ironically enough, none of them was from us. One of them was from some number (my 711 friend was getting lucky tonight I guess) and the other one was from a number I know of and it was from RBF.

I do not have any jealous bones in my body and I do not own RBF to be able to stop him from perving at others. However, the whole night, RBF has been rubbing my ass and groping my crotch and pressing me towards him, to which I did not mind; there was even one point where I thought I would get lucky with him tonight. So, when I found out that one of these messages was from RBF, I felt a bit disgusted.

Correct me if I’m wrong but I do not want to go home with a guy who’s been groping me all night, only to find out he’s been simultaneously sending ‘pick up’ messages to the friend I came to the bar with. If he had not been groping me or giving me signals, I would not have minded if RBF has sent my 711 the message. But yeah, I lost interest and I did not want to go home with him anymore.

I lost RBF halfway through the night and he wrote to me on Grindr “Thanks” and “whatever”. I do not know what those two were for. I asked him if he was ok, to which he said yes. So, giving the benefit of the doubt, I dodged continuing the chat and just ignored him. Now, I’m not even too sure I would go home with RBF in the future.