So I started trying to learn the Melbourne shuffle.
And I just realised that I can’t afford to give it up incase I try doing it too soon when I’m drunk.
Less often on some nights, I slip back into old sleeping habits. I find it to be considerably worse when sober.
We sat with white blankets covering our legs, talking about conspiracies. My blanket was smaller and smelt rough. I kept my shoes on underneath it.
"I think the government made up ‘selfies’ to concoct a system of face recognition for the general public." I announce.
"My phone is listening to me…" He stared at the screen and not at me.
"North Korea doesn’t actually exist either, you know. It’s fabricated, or at least largely exaggerated. So we all think we haven’t really got it so bad in comparison. Then, then they can do whatever they like with us."
"Oh, yeah? Look." He thrusts the phone at me. "See, knuckle dusters, there in the advert. I was talking about them before. I said, they hurt you more than the other person, and my phone heard me. I don’t like it." He said, picking up his iPad instead.
I thought about holding a glass of cold wine and listened to Liam Neeson speak about maps in the background until I struggled to hold my head up. Until I dreamt of nothing.