the time

It seems that the air tonight is intoxicated by the music. Everything around is slightly blurred - the lights, faces, thoughts - and this makes it even easier to breathe. The glass contains not just a drink, but permission to be shamelessly alive, to forget names, to stop counting the hours. Here, no one owes anyone anything except the pleasure of being on the same wavelength.

Your pulse matches the bass, your mind shuts down somewhere between a sip and a beat. Everything important is reduced to one simple fact: right now is good. Later, you can go back to pretending to be a serious person, but for now, the night generously shares its oblivion. And that, perhaps, is the best exchange possible.