On a typical Friday night, I was debating if I should hang out in Greenwich Village or should I just stay in Brooklyn, at some warehouse rave party. I decided to go out alone that night. For some reason, I felt the need to spend some time alone with myself. No temporary friends needed. I ended up at the warehouse party in Greenpoint here Brooklyn, a fucking rave pretty much. A mixed crowd, ranging from eighteen years old all the way to forty. There were three different rooms of music. It was hard techno in the first room, dubstep on the second room, and on the third room, I couldn’t really tell. It sounded like Skillrex and Avicii at the same time. Whether it’s a new genre, I didn’t really give a fuck. It sounded good, it provided me an invisible place where I could get lost and feel free. That’s the power of techno music. And as usual, someone offered me a tab of molly in order for me to get in the zone. Half an hour later, I found myself dancing in front of DJ along with the rest of ravers who were also fucking high as fuck. Bright lights and illuminated, every sensation was heightened, I was extremely alive. While I was dancing by myself I saw a tall blonde girl, she’s probably Swedish, probably about twenty three or twenty four years old. She wasn’t dancing, she was just standing there, wearing a brown hippie dress that she probably made herself and a crown on her head made of daisies. I decided to dance my way towards her and started to talk while the blaring music continues to play in the background.

“Hey there!” I said.
“Hey there yourself, what are you doing?” She asked.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Whatever it is you’re doing, you need to stop. You may look young and have the stamina of a teenager but you can’t rave forever.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Sooner or later, you will eventually stop this.”
“I don’t fucking think so!”

I noticed that she’s trying to ruin my high, so I pulled away and went to the middle of the dance floor. The next day, I woke up at some loft in Williamsburg, by Bedford Avenue and 7th Street. Everyone at that loft was sleeping and I slowly walked out of the place. That same day, I’ve thought about seeing my psychologist, Suzanne Lessing. I haven’t seen her in a long time and I think it’s time now. I sensed that something was fucking up my life again and I need to figure out what it was. Since I’m always having troubles admitting any mistakes on my own, it’s better with a psychologist. I called her office but no one’s answering. So I decided to just come over there without notice. I walked over to her office near Union Square. I knocked on her door and no one seemed to answer. I knocked again, and a young woman opened the door. Full make up on her face and dressed just like Suzanne.

“Hi, I’m Lorenzo, is Suzanne Lessing in?” I asked.
“She’s not in, do you have an appointment?” She asked me back.
“No I don’t. Is she here?”
“She’s not coming back.”
“Why not?”
“Because she killed herself three days ago.”

Hearing the death of my own psychologist made me feel like shit. The woman’s name who answered the door was her daughter, Bettina. She goes to college in Europe. I asked her to have coffee with me at Think Coffee on Mercer Street and 3rd Street. We were both sitting on the table near the glass window. She’s had green tea and I had iced coffee.

“Did she leave any suicide note?” I asked.
“Yes, she sent an automatic email to everyone actually, including myself.” She replied.
“What did it say?”
“It said that she’s been suffering from depression since birth and he only reason that she became a shrink was because she was depressed. She thought that being a psychologist could protect her from her own demons but she was wrong. It only made it worst.”
“Fuck, now I have to find a new shrink. Who the hell is going to fix me now, my psychologist is dead.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone who isn’t suicidal.”
“By the way, how are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t feel sad?”
“No, I’m actually happy for her because she no longer has to pretend that her life is put together.”

Even though Bettina said that she’s not sad, I still sensed her loss. I decided to invite her to an upcoming rave in Bushwick.

“Hey my DJ friend from Paris will be spinning the tables tonight at a warehouse in Brooklyn, you should come.” I said.
“Oh, I’d like to but I have dinner with my boyfriend tonight.” She replied.
“I’m sorry I didn’t know you’re with someone, I didn’t mean to-”
“Hey relax, just because I have a boyfriend it doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to see other people.”

She then smiled at me like a Russian slut, and I liked it.

“I see, so you’re gonna cheat?”
“No, me and my boyfriend are in an open relationship.”
“That’s cool.”
“Anyway, I can’t stay too long. I have to go. It was nice to meet you Lorenzo”

She then took out a card from her purse and left it with me at the table. It has her contact info in it. I then smiled at myself and thought that it’s always good to have a business card of a future fuck buddy.

That night, I went to the warehouse club in Bushwick. My friend Aurelie from France, is on stage spinning the tables. Every time we hang out, she always asks me about sexcapades and it always entertains her. I don’t really mind telling her though. It was a massive warehouse, there was a small bar but not everyone was boozing. When I got there, half of the people on the dance floor are already rolling. I looked around for some MDMA pill and eventually found one. Some kid dancing by himself, I asked him if he knows where to score and he asked me back, “What are you looking for?” I said I’m looking for X, which is another term for ecstasy. I took the pill and started dancing around until the high finally kicked in. I made my way to the middle of the dance floor and when I looked back I saw Suzanne, my dead psychologist. I stopped dancing and walked towards her. She went outside and then I followed her. When I stepped out of the club, I saw Suzanne smoking a cigarette at the street corner under a light post making her look more isolated. I assumed that I’m just hallucinating due to the MDMA that I took.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Just looking out for you, I feel kind of bad that I’m no longer alive to help you fix yourself.” Suzanne replied.
“Please go away, I’m high as fuck right now and the last thing I want is to hallucinate.”
“Oh relax, you’ll thank me for this session when you’re sober. I think you should stop destroying yourself. You still have your whole life ahead of you, Lorenzo. Getting high and having endless sex with strangers will not heal anything. It will actually just make you feel less of who you are.”
“How could you be so certain?”
“Because I could see the past, present, and future. That’s the fun part of being dead. It’s kind of like watching netflix but better.”
“Tell me about my future.”
“I can’t, it’s against the rules.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“I’m serious, just because I’m a ghost it doesn’t mean that I don’t follow the rules. I tell you what, I think you should take out my daughter, you two have a lot in common. And I think it’s time for you to be with someone.”
“Oh great, so I should just get married, raise a bunch of rugrats, and live in suburbia.. No fuck that! I’d rather kill myself if that’s what you see in my future.”
“All I’m saying is it’s better when someone’s there for you. I’m not telling you to settle down and raise a family like a bored Manhattan banker. We all need someone to love us.”
“Okay, now you sound more pathetic. I don’t need anyone to be there for me. The kind of life that you want me to live sounds too conformist and I don’t want it. I will never follow the crowd, I will always go my own way.”
“What do you want then? What is it that you really want?”
“I want to feel better and feel alive all the time.”
“You need someone in order to have that kind of life. You can’t always accomplish everything on your own.”

Suzanne drops her cigarette on the ground and steps on it.

“Sometimes I think of doing the same thing that you did.”
“Don’t do that, you’re fate is different and probably better than mine. Suicide doesn’t really fix anything. It will will hurt someone one way or another. You’re still alive, you have every chance to make anything happen. Me I’m dead, I will never feel the air on my skin or wake up in a warm bed, I no longer have the chance to make things happen, I’m done. Try to cherish your life if you can. I will see you on your next high.”

“Lorenzo! Who are you talking to?” Aurelie yelled.

I looked to my side and Aurelie was there calling me to come over. I looked in front of me and Suzanne was gone. I walked over to catch up with my friend.

“I was just talking to myself.” I said.
“Stop talking to yourself, let’s go back inside. I will play some new tracks! Have you found anyone here to have sex with?” Aurelie asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Let’s go back inside the club, you will find someone.”

I went back inside the club with Aurelie, already feeling sober. But the things that Suzanne said to me kept playing in my mind like a broken record.

TO BE CONTINUED…