Another Night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 02, 2018

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Submitted: July 02, 2018

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The world is in the palm of my hands. I trace the rim of my beer glass. I sit. I listen. What is it that I’m listening to? It’s the collective bustle of humanity, conversations rising from every corner of the pub, only to meet in the middle and mingle, turning into one ceaseless drone. Yet it is the same drone that I’m drawn to. I do not want to be in the midst of it, but to stand upon the edge of civilization and observe. Absorb. What is it that I’m absorbing? I cannot tell. Is it the advertisements that they play on the TV screens? No, that’s not it. There is no way that purchasing all these products would make me happy. At least not as happy as the people on the screen appear to be. Am I here, then, to gawk at attractive servers? Perhaps. Maybe I am addicted to their curves. Maybe that is the thing I cannot live without. My food is here. I am participating in the act of eating. I am using my parents’ money to buy food. I am a parasite but I do not know any other way to live. I am perfect at being a parasite. And I am hungry. And there’s an empty hole inside me that cannot be filled. I wish I could fill it. I just don’t know how. So I’m gonna keep eating and drinking until something finally clicks. But really, why the fuck am I here?


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