The maniacs are at it again...
They went to the bar to dance after spending the entire day convincing themselves they wouldn't
Or shouldn't
They left around midnight
By 2:30a.m they started sifting in like goofy cockroaches
They all had priorities the next morning
They all complained
Babbling on and on about having to work the next morning while ignoring themselves completely
The booze and drugs had pickled their brains so much so that they had lost all motivation to take care of themselves
They infect each other and they wake up a day later pretending nothing ever even happened at all
They come back with stories of how some handsome or pretty young stranger was eyeing them on the dance floor
They get off to this
During the day they hardly talk to each other at all
They pass each other in different rooms and on the streets
They say hello to each other with this strange sense of fear that maybe they've been caught.
For what, not even they know.
The passion, ambition, and lust for life comes streaming out of their bodies like cold, sticky sweat
Through heavy breathing
Intoxication
I can partially relate,
I also scream for the drink but for a very different reason
I feel pain
I feel everything
Maybe even a little too much
My heart hurts for them
My head aches for them
All the limbs attached to my torso want to shoot out and leave
If they could feel like I feel
See like I see
Then maybe they would try something different
Or maybe...
I'm just strange.
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