Different City. Same Conversations.

Stumbling through Fitzroy at 8pm. The sun is still up. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. Going to some gig at this shoe box of a bar. The singer in the band is some chick I follow on instagram.

Sitting in the corner, waiting for the set to start. Chain smoking cigarettes to pass the time, and to cure my loneliness.

Eavesdropping on the hipsters around me. It’s a different city, but the same old conversations.

Tell me I’m pretty.

Tell me I’m interesting.

Tell me my opinion is valid, even though I haven’t seen Stranger Things.



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