Text 19 Aug night

Wandering around the city past 1am on a weekday, the alcohol I had already imbibed calling out to the rivers of alcohol yet unswallowed, gave me the uncomfortable impression that I was drowning in a viscous liquid, invisible yet all permeating. We walked a bit too quickly but my mind was slow as the city. I felt like the streets were willfully keeping me from the adventure I sought.

The night ended as futilely as it had begun, with a glass of tequila mixed with far too much Tabasco sauce, sipped opposite a member of the gender-bending working class.


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