If Only You Were There...

Call it fortunate, but never has alcohol given me an effect resembling what its suppose to bestow, as toxic. Perhaps the cognac and different breeds of beer did not cohabitate well in my belly, I had the most giddy of spell commencing way before midnight, before the night has begun to kick-off.

Knowing that I will not be enjoying myself and sensing the waste of time and effort in trying to cling on to a happening club night, I made my way home. On the knocky cab drive, it occurred to me that this wasn't the only night when I was wasting time, effort in a club and not exactly enjoying myself the way I should be.

I have forgotten what I drink for. Since 18, its almost a decade now, since I went Mambo for the first time. Since then, its been drinks at least twice a week. I thought it might be just a phase of life, now, this is life. I could have so loved getting high just so the Zouk centre platform feels even taller. Could have been because I always needed that extra booast to go picking up chicks.

For the first time, it seemed like my drinking nights have been so empty. And there, tossing around on the rubbery seats, I would push away everything, everybody in my path, except you.

If only you were holding onto me.

But you were not there. And til now, I do not see you there.