Hilda, Simon and I went out to some random bar last night to have a few drinks after catching a late show of a pretentious, boring art film at the local theater.
There was a stoned, yuppie dude dancing around like a complete imbecile. He ended up falling on the table next to us, spilling everyone’s drinks as he did so. The people sitting on that table didn’t seem to care. They were high as fuck. However, the bar owner did and ended up throwing the guy out, apologized to the crowd and got them some new drinks.
I don’t know why I keep going to bars and clubs. I really don’t enjoy them that much. It’s hard; the feeling of not belonging. I see people around me, dancing and having fun, while I sit there, bored and disconnected; a total loser. I sit in the corner, self-conscious and awkward. I drink but alcohol doesn’t do much for me. I smoke but the smell of cigarettes irritates me. I try moving to the music and pretend I’m so into it, but I know I’m not, and that makes me feel ridiculous. I’m never at ease in social situations. I never enjoy myself when I’m out in public. It’s like everyone’s living and I’m just watching. It’s like I don’t exist.
Felix Eberstark 