5% ALC. BY VOL

swimming in a hypnotic fluid, slanted and exhausted
I blink my eyes in slow motion
blue eyes, icy, no spark, just a buzz and a couple of º.
No more conversations
just neon lights and concrete walls covered with démodé graffitist
Society puzzles me in a paralyzing fashion
Dollars run down a wet coble stone street
Chinese pop music
New York, the city of the $200 shirt
of the polished, smiling, skinny people with goldfish poring out of their ears
Cocaine plastered bathrooms, junky cardigans and hydrogenated bicycles.

I guess after all drinking with people is not much better than drinking alone.