Sunday, October 14, 2012

Stone Cold Sober


The backdrop was a chorus of dogs howling and the faint moon, hidden by a thin veil of clouds peeks through the window, illuminating the dark room.

He was never the party boy. And though some of his friends are raving about this Friday night, getting high and drunk, having the fvcking time of their lives, he lays still in his bed. He never liked getting wasted. Yes, he has the occasional cheap beers and wines, but not on a regular basis that he finds it sordidly absurd to have scheduled dates of drunkenness. There simply is no logic in alcohol.

And as he contemplates at the sheer "boredom" his simple life is, he also notices the pointlessness of this entry and how cold his coffee has become.

Now if only we had coffee bars here.

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