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Fun fact about me: the moment I get drunk, I turn into a walking scrapbook collector—except instead of tickets or polaroids, I collect selfies with literally anyone I meet. Strangers, friends, bartenders, you name it. It’s like my intoxicated mind decides that blurry, questionably framed photos are the ultimate souvenirs of the night. And well… here’s one of them. A little proof of my late-night antics, sealed with a tipsy grin and it's a memory I may or may not fully recall.
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Accidentally hitting the same spot this evening in the club with these ladies. Nonetheless of the conditions occured some in times, previously, in this present time we serve better with the same laugh to glare are dance floor to share. Not so many things to talk but glad that we are having a great time to be on a same boat sailing on its track, ours.
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It's poetic how some things quietly fall back into place once the dust decides to settle. Thanks for the drink, love—it hit just right. And well… I never really left. You always knew where to find me 😉