There is certainly a drinking alone that invokes a loneliness most overwhelming. I was waiting, in my pattern of distaste, for her to return and contemplating how waiting is only hope's younger brother. The shadow of it, and the evening, as all like this, was trailing the other older, more respected, invested in by others, inspirational nights. Why do girls always go to the toilet in pairs if availability makes so convenient?
I watched; unfolding before me, the ease of a stranger dissociating themselves from me, likely unintentionally, but still reprehensible, and so opposing a convention and etiquette I was used to. But still, for history's sake I felt the inclination to wait it out in the foresighted anticipation of it bettering. I wondered of such casual disregard and how it imparts an other with the most banal sense of worthlessness. Where so unfair a situation exists and so loneliness persists, it does impose me to question my intentions and pray one day to resolve in holding hope less.
I fucking hate these dregs requesting of me a smoke. Why don't they buy their own and what makes them such a taxable request, like to withhold is some kind of condescension? Whilst cigarettes are so contrived; well tailored for the hopeful, that does lead me believe maybe never quit. But I have zero sympathy for the soul not bought their own, or so unprepared for the morning ahead that they are leeches and pestering scum.
I cannot resist the desperation for a further, longer, headier, more telling moment. There is a current; strong, that carries to an ocean where and when the unknown is totally giving and interesting and exceeds all expectations. I wish and resign so wistfully to penetrate the souls of others in swift instance and create requisite to never look back. But she does not give me that chance and seemingly without regard departs for another part of the room and leaves no clue to if she'll return and so eventually I have to move and try and find her. So now, still so alone, I decide to be proactive and gather the pieces of an evening shattered at the beginning and maybe buy another drink. But wait what's this? The bouncers aren't allowing anymore beverages outside!? Fuck them and this; I light up a smoke and stroll across the room, tapping the ash on the shoes of those I pass by, kicking out of my lungs the smoke into the dim lit ceiling rungs and make my exit with no pleasant discretion, calling it a night.
memories & previous plans
- ▼ May (10)