Member-only story
Drunk Writing 1:
Digest free thinking, worst beer cans, and why no one reads a book anymore.
Sipping down the shittiest beer available in a can. Definitely the shittiest one in town.
Saying “it tastes like piss” is not doing justice to how bad it actually is. Yet, I somehow, find myself, sipping into this shitty froth.
Well, I don’t really “find myself” drinking this. I made a concious choice to walk down to the liquor store and buy it off of a rought iron grilled window. Hardly a store, to be honest. Shady, by all means.
And guess what? The only fucking beer they had was this. The shittiest one available in town and the shittiest one you will perhaps ever taste. So I bought myself a couple of cans. Not bottles.
You know, all the noise they make, the fragility, the logistical hassle to dispose them off without being found. Tough work.
Anyway, going ahead in the story with my rambles again.
The first can is almost over by now and I wonder what people like to read nowadays.
I mean, who even reads nowadays?
It is the 21st century, and we’re well into it. The digital world has taken over. And Robot-Human singularity is just mere time away.
