common denominator

a month old restobar is shaking butuan. the all new woodstock. no, its never like the event its named after. yes, woodstock in its literal sense. i was there earlier. this time i wasn't partying, i was merely observing. it takes inner strength to actually sit there for hours and not take in my usual dose of alcohol (im currently on antibiotics) and just stare stare stare. you know what happens when you come to this kind of place and leave sober? you'll get a very bad hang over. why? its because you don't have booze to get you preoccupied and you'll tend to see what's really going on around. in my city, faces aren't just faces. faces are stories. as i was pacing to and from the counter to get my refill of icetea and water i bump to people i used to know in the past. yes, USED TO KNOW IN THE PAST. theirs are the faces that had shared something with me. maybe a silly drunken session, a project from school, a room for dragging that forbidden smoke, or even a cum for that poor unborn fetus. sick eh? but that's what it is. before when i pass by these faces they don't bother me because when im jaded and good, only dan bothers me. but this night is different, although i have been in a lot of alcohol holiday, this particular night made all the things i shared with this faces vivid. that woman who's dancing like no one's watching has two sons sleeping on a room she uses as a session hall for her addiction. those two guys who share the same genes each has an unborn fetus from two close friends. that man who is drowning himself from chivas regal is trying to win custody over two angels. she's a bitch. he's a manwhore. and life, goes on. because really, nobody cares. too bad on this uneventful night, i did.