So much more seems acceptable when you're drunk. Or maybe it is more acceptable. Sure, it looks bad if you pee in the middle of the street at 2pm, but draining out on a wall after closing hour is a regular part of life. And I have some decent perspective on this, as I've done them both sober and drunk. The drunk out numbers the sober in a way that makes me remember how bad I am with ratios. Also: a whole fucking lot. Once I peed on some guy in a business suit on his way home from work. I'm not sure if it makes it any better he paid me to do it. Not that I was advertising that I'm willing to wee on strangers for cash, he just saw something about me and asked. Which, I suppose, is the worst case scenario.
Fallen men dance with treasured souls in our dance halls. The content and criminals burn through floors while the painters and soldiers loop-de-doo. We are the haven of shattered dreams brewed and seeped in desperate pleas to find something beautiful and true. The sense nonsensical and boring baseline a barely contained titillation over flowing with fantastic cries and moans of ecstasy.
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