I’m only 20 now, and in spite of that, I’m prone to think of my ‘good old days’ every once in a while. I think it’s not uncommon for many people to do that, given that everyone does have a part of their lives consigned to that particular title for them. The very utterance brings to mind those days which we all wasted knowingly just for the fun we wanted to have. When we all grouped around in the bar speaking to each other of every other girl and boy, and when the bartender goes “last call!”, we turn around surprised that time has flown by so quickly. I don’t know if I’m to attribute that to the ways of the bottle or to the ways of our days. We were quite given to the fact that we could skip the moments of time as it passed by, yet painfully aware that we would still have to give our final exams. We’d go wandering all over the city, trying to find one spot where we’d never been before, yet painfully aware that there never did exist such a spot. Such a lifestyle did go on to leave conspicuous gaps in my resume, but I don’t ever regret having them when it is that the weight of the world hangs down upon my shoulders, often at times reminding me of the pervading mediocrity that bogs me down along with it. Be it the bottle or be it the company, here’s to my lifelong bout of sobriety!