“Let’s just get super fucked up, hey?”
It’s a plan. We drink rum, vodka, gin and Bintang longnecks skulled outside a bar, and multiple free shots of arak given out like candy to babies. We have long-winded conversations that go nowhere, get drenched in the rain and boogie to The Strokes at 2am.
If my…
Dear Alcohol,
I’ve been thinking a lot about our relationship lately. I’m not very happy, and no -- it’s not me; it’s you.
Most of the time, I am an interesting, composed young adult. But all it takes is a small dose of you, and my hidden feelings are aired out for display. I then…