Hey. I'm breaking my no drinking rule. (No drinking, then posting.) I don't care. I'm really happy. My favorite Denver dj was playing at Amsterdam (the local afterhours club). Kostas. He had been dark, dark, dark for awhile, but he was ever so sweet tonight.

He has amazing control. He extends the pretty parts. You know: those pauses, between the thumper music, when everybody stops dancing and rests for a minute. I don't get that. That's the best part. Don't get me wrong, I love the frenetic music, when it builds and builds, harder and rougher and frantic and you're just pounding, pouding, pounding it out . . .

But then it climaxes, and the sweet, soft, pretty part eases in, and that's all the better. Like sex. I like the holding afterward even better than the sex. Really. It's a close call, I love them both intensely, but the holding . . . That's the sweetest part of life there is. Just to hold another person, a sweet boy, a man you care about, feel some affection for, hold him in your arms, just nestled together, two distant islands nuzzling together and sharing the universe together for a few sweet moments. I like that.

I like dancing, too. Especially the sweet parts. Same thing.

There were nice guys there tonight. They appreciated it. A whole bunch of them.

It started out slowly, it was an off-night at the main danceclub, the one that peaks around midnight, the one that sells alcohol, stays open till 2. They had an out of town dj last week, so apparently it was packed then--I was in Seattle--and this was the inevitable down weekend after.

Amsterdam gets going around 2, though, and it fills up with a lot of the hardcore dancers from the other club who haven't wrenched it all out of their veins yet, but it has its own private crowd, too. It was so, so slow at the start, lots of people on the sidelines, nobody filling the dancefloor, hardly anybody taking their shirt off.

But then it changed. I'm not sure why, maybe it was Kostas lifting the mood skyward with his pitch-perfect inflections. But it happened, it was magical tonight, that's the feeling I live for.

I didn't have to go home with anybody tonight, just a few friends I drove home, it wasn't about that. It was sharing the joy and the ecstasy of life on the dancefloor.

I believe in God. I believe in God because I feel him on the dancefloor. On the sixth day, just before He rested, He looked around, saw something was missed, paused a moment and created the dancefloor.

He'll never top that one. Ever. And I'll be eternally grateful.