God, Girls

I didn’t drink rum. I did have a glass of Jack with Erik, although responsibly.

I should have introduced him at the bar. I was struck by their beauty and the comfortable dusty smell of wood. God, girls kill me. I’m obsessed with what I can’t understand, damned to too, however, it’s more like being damned to a menial job in heaven. At least I’m there.

Here, I mean.