We know it. Fuck yeah, we know it. Listen to the beat. Moments ago, it was The Doors, one of the best bands ever. Break on through to the other side. It's over now; there's something else in the air, something I cannot recall. I know it's not Radiohead. No. Not going into that. I know it's not a lot of damned things anyway. So it's something else, something else other than all those things I know it's not. Whatever. Drunk as hell, I don't even know why I'm here. Oh wait, I know now. Had never listened to this band before. I mean, not the band that's playing right now, but the band that'll come soom. Makes sense? I'm listening the pub's music. And conversations. Mostly girls here. Pretty, too. Have no idea what they're talking and giggling about. Mind their business, that's what they do. They don't notice me. Thankfully. I wouldn't know what to say. In this wretched party there's only one person I'd like to talk to. One person whose opinion matters, means something to me. Nirvana now. Someone's cell phone ran out of battery right now. Not mine. Twenty-three-oh-nine. Nirvana. Know not the song, matters little. Another shot. Had too many of them. The pub is nice. Tried to call my best friend, but phone's out. The walls are painted red. There are lights on the angular mirrors hanging on the walls. I don't know if anyone has noticed that I'm writing. I didn't; wonder if tomorrow I'll understand what's written here. Smirting is so overrated.