last night i went to a friend's 18th and things got a little bit crazy to say the least. and by 'crazy' i mean of the alcoholic persuasion.

i don't remember the exact moment when the parties i went to with people from my year level stopped being pass the parcel and started being shots shots shots but it is what it is now. technically, i'm not allowed to drink. my parents are brown and asian so i'm expecting that rule not to change until i'm 30. at least. but the concoction of rebellion mixed with thudding music and pack mentality as well as just being a good ol' fashioned dumb teenager means forged permission notes at 6:30pm, jagermeister burning down my throat at 8pm and quickly trying to sober up at 11:30pm. i know its stupid but, again, it is what it is now.

last night's celebrations was for a girl part of the upper class in our grade's social hierarchy. i'm not gonna try and pretend cliques and popularity aren't a thing in high school and, sorry middle schoolers, they probably will be for a long time to come. but they also mean that the party circle i'm invited to involve practically the same groups of people every time which also means that most parties follow the same routine. you know who's going to hook up. you know who's going to be crying. you know who's going to be the centre of attention. you know who's going to be in all the photos. naturally it can all become boring and derivative. that is, unless you have your drunk goggles on which is what i did last night.

at first when i sat down to write this post i wanted to do one of those angsty poems about alcoholism and superficialness and how amidst the haze of lethargic movements and lack of filter you see a person for who they really are deep inside. i wanted to write something that would fit amongst the 1975 lyrics or have aesthetic tumblr accounts scrambling for the reblog button. except, for me, that's not what drinking was.

i mean, it was fun. i was buzzing on a confidence boost with only one goal: party. gone was my usual crippling sense of self-consciousness and self-awareness. i did not give a single, flying fuck what anyone else thought of me. though, if there's one thing i remember from last night, it's that i'm pretty sure i looked like a complete moron. but i was a moron who was having harmless fun so that's all good with me. i had no inhibitions and i didn't get caught which altogether equals a great night.

by no means am i encouraging underage drinking or saying that you need alcohol to have a good time. you do you and you do you responsibly. besides, rule number one when dinushka goes drinking is do not throw up. that fear of puking and having the most sacred part of my body penetrated by the half-digested contents of my stomach (my mouth is where i taste food and thus it is the temple that i worship) ensures i cut myself off before anything becomes too hectic. what i think i'm trying to say is that not everything is deep and meaningful and reflects the inner-workings of humanity. sometimes it's just pure, mindless fun.

(born in 1998 and have a voice to share with the world? click here to find out how you can be heard!)