The World of Drunken, Sunken Souls

I am still having trouble relating to the fact that I have embarked on a journey of the social callender. Some may find this hard to believe, what with me being so damn fly and interesting, but truth be told, I hibernated through those 'college years' finding peace in the company of monkeys and goats and IZ and Self. I never did dates. I don't know about all night binges and keg paties. As my Unknown Souljah would say, "I lacked social skills".

Suddenly, everything is different. One night I'm meeting Shackles at Opa's after a horrible lecture (supposedly) on the Old Testament and the next minute I have to check my diary to see what I can swing. It's weird.

I feel like a visitor in my new life. I am not yet comfortable here. I often think the shadows were more honest. But I check myself. I'm still in my twenties and shit if I don't get out now then when?

So I make the necessary investments for sociability. I get my hair done. I spend more than I need to on clothes. I re-introduce my body to cigarettes and alcohol. I learn to operate on less sleep. I argue with my smarter self that this is all part of the program- if you're in for a penny- you're in for a pound. I argue with my dummer self that this is all illusion so what in the end, does it really matter?

As I dive into this forgotten world of drunken, sunken souls I realize a few thing:
1) I am sickeningly lucid.
2) I am disgustingly nonchalant.
3 I am nauseatingly empathetic.

and as such

4) I inevitably end up listening to someone's spirit sing.

I don't know how to put on that tightened nasal voise and I can't muster false enthusiasm. Perky is downright painful. Nevertheless. The social world embraces me. It's long been straved for a cool compassion and two ears that truly don't give a fuck.