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tom dicillo, drowned in sound uk, models, insultingpostcards, moviedatabase, makaveli lyric, true stories, quotations, writing, boobs, there goes the neighborhood, steve,
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“Folks, can you please take that somewhere else.” The couple glanced at me distractedly, their eyes blank. They seemed to product be enjoying themselves as little as we were, yet they resumed their pseudo passion. After another interminable minute of drugged-out, sloppy kisses, they finally product got up to move to a bar stool where she could product grind on him to her hearts content. As I watched them leave, my disconnect extended beyond my reflection. I was an anthropologist from the future, maybe even an alien observing mankind. Suddenly, I felt how temporary they were. How temporary we all were. I looked around, one by one the people in the club disappeared. Though I always wax eloquent on the transience of life, I now felt it viscerally. Our important little lives only a brief blip on this old earth and that moment with the couple so small it probably couldn’t be quantified. It all felt so silly. Both, the couple and my indignation over them, as if this millisecond in time would make a damn bit of difference.
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