I banged the door, and banged it again it wouldn’t shut and was off on the street to the liquor mart. Ananda and reet I dragged and they dragged me to park street where we would be free and drink from a pet bottle surreptitiously. Whiskey and rum, the concoctions prepared in the loo of birkmeyer and sipped glugged and swung on the lawns of the boys hostel to a chant from the rehearsal heard like a reconstruction from the lion king. a luscious warmth spread evenly through me, and feeling warm in cold and brave when really not that bold I could do anything. The rehearsal broke and all filed out in squares triangles and other shapes casual, formal and friendly.
We were on a mental plane where everything was flexible and elastic and rules were like clothes hanging from a line swaying wildly in a fantastic breeze. It was one kind of bliss in the self, the hyper consciousness of ancient seers. But there was no need for that butt pinching dare; im so often ashamed that im not me.