i've noticed that the art of clubbing, is very much like love itself. when u love a person, they don't necessarily reciprocate.
my desire to go get hammered tonight, is not reciprocated either.
that is the crushing reality of my life, or, atleast the start of my weekend.
it really is intensely personal, this non-mutuality.
and listening to dhoom dhoom doesn't help. nor does being able to taste the alcohol on my parched tongue. and nor does desiring the acrid burning sensation in my eyes upon entering a club.
walauwe!
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