Pyrrhus at the top of the world

I went to the Ghost Bar the other night and it was...interesting. Here are some thoughts.

You.
Over there with the sunglasses on.
What is so bright that you're wearing those in here?
Tonight?
Is it the dazzling madness swirling around you?
The expensive drinks?
Maybe you're afraid of heights.
Or maybe you're famous.
In this place, anything is possible.

The bachelorette by the elevators,
struggling to get her footing as the world swirls madly around her.
The skinny girls and the fake lips and the
men with the important looks and important suits
with their girls who have equally important not-much-on
to go with their high heels
and their money and their drinks.

What are you looking for with those glasses on?
I can see the city stretch out before us and
still feel a void stretch out from all of us in here,
bouncing off the floor-to-ceiling windows
back to us to squeeze the life from us.

Can I borrow your sunglasses?
All I can see through the haze and the pulsing lights
is desperation.