Late November,
2:00 AM somewhere in the hills of Panmure,
back when Currents and Cilvia Demo were my anthems.
Renz was in the front-seat,
Shafiq was in the Driver’s seat,
they wouldn’t stop giving me shit about Georgia,
I wouldn’t stop giving Renz shit about Christina too.
Sam and Dom were in the back with me
too busy getting high and being loud.
All I really wanted to do was listen to Kevin and Isaiah,
because Nangs and Hereditary were trying to speak to me
for the past couple of weeks.
The muffled voices of Kevin and Isaiah
were fighting against a cloud of insobriety and a shade of blue,
describing my constant back and forth
between existential-optimism and jaded-pessimism.
Trying to make me pick a side.
9 months later
and I’m still undecided about it.



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