Sunday, 6 April 2014

Sunday Night Out


Only the odd misfits of society come out on a Sunday night out. Handsome dapper suckling boys who are darling to their heiresses’; Dominatrix girls in knee high leather strap in boots and tattooed breasts. The perfumed types, the all frills but no knickers types, the jaunty angled hat types. The looters and the drug abusers sit in waiting on a Sunday night, they don’t anticipate tomorrow that’s why they are odd. The Sunday night go outers must be those who don’t hold down a steady job that is the 9 to 5 weekly grind with 5 days on and 2 days off. They may be freelancers. But in any case they either don’t work alongside those who depend on their work on a 9 to 5 basis or they can’t care too much. No career path to speak of. How hard is that? To not have to disappoint anyone but yourself. Who loses out on the wasting of your own time apart from you. I miss the fighting spirit, we all do, of course we do because without it life is dull. A dull thud from the bed to the floor when you wake up dead.

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