Sunday, October 2, 2011
Two. Soon.
And with age, the bar has been lowered. Two drinks are now enough to cause a swagger, albeit not by choice. Not by choice for many other things. It is natural, really. Still very much fond. Even if that is not really considered a stupor, in the midst of grasping with lucidity, you have always remained the constant. That who is very much real. And it hurts.
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