19 - On the dole - sad story

It's getting on for 3, I got no money left, I don't feel that high anymore, and it's oh so familiar, the drumnbass which was so 'kickin' an hour ago is starting to get annoying as the same bassline goes round and round. Sitting in one of the seats away from the dancefloor, sticky tables, already smoked too many cigarettes, sitting in the small crowd of refugees, tired, looking after the coats, fuck knows where my mates are,already starting my pill hangover, feel cold and sweaty. Try to force myself back into life, get the chemicals working again, maybe lend a fiver somewhere. But Fuck It. We got a nice block of hash and some beer at home.

Back home is always fun, playing playstation or watching shit films and talking shite, it's nice and warm, sort of like when you have proper soup after you been out in the rain, the painful endless walk across the end of saturday night, puke and piss all over the street, cold wind...then finally at home we can get stoned, buy a case of beer in the morning, struggle with the first few cans then get back in the rythm. drinking with duvets over our legs. have a shot on the decks, piss everyone off playing silly records or fucking up my mix. Keep Sadness At Bay. till when eventually we all pass out, or everyone goes off, and I'm lying in bed, alone, looking out the window, smoing a cigarette or writing and doodling on the side of the page, i remember that deep down i don't go out to dance and get high, but cos i want to be with someone