Sitting in a dance club smokin his Shisha with an "Old Fashioned" drink neatly placed atop a napkin on his table. Everyone else dances...he just sits there enjoying his time without expression. People want to know what's wrong with him...heh, nothing. Everyone else lost in aimless, blissful distraction. He just sits and enjoys pretending not to hear a thing. He hears only his heartbeat. Watching the pick-pockets and pick up artists..he's nice. Nothing distracts him from his purpose. Nothing robs him of his peace. He's there to practice drowning it all out. To practice becoming a singularity among an ever expanding collective. Finding some purpose in the process. He knows how hard it is to hear the music and not bob his head or tap his feet...but he's in control. Leave him alone...
~Apollo
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