Fear and Loathing in Honolulu

This is an interesting little pocket in time that we live in. We are just like those poor dead idiots that have died before us. The saying history repeats its self should win an award called the "No Shit Sherlock" The only real difference is that we know more about them than they knew about their poor dead idiots that came before them. We have an inflamed sense of awareness in our own time.

What this has to do with the point of my bloggings to you today, I have no idea. Just shit like finding you own little pocket in the world at a point in time fascinates me. And to just say history repeats its self just make me think of having a new award displayed in my room.

With all that being said, I found my "place". I have longed for a place where I could go after a day of work and have a few beers, and be merry. I thought I had found that place in Pink Cadillac. But the truth was, I wasn't really happy there. Underage girls pretending they know it all may sound appealing, but it really isn't.

Last Saturday I went to a club called Next Door. Perhaps it is my fascination with brick warehouses that intrigued me about this place? Since just put in a bar in one of those and you get what it looks like. Or maybe it was the women who would actually talk to me instead of ignore me? Hot women. over the legal drinking age. Or maybe the fact that this place didn't play gangstah rap? The Bass on tap? Either way, I loved it. And the fact that everyone knew what my costume was (Hunter S. Thompson) made this place special. I found my pocket.

Twenty years from now, when the place is torn down to make way for more apartments the people of this island can't afford, I will look back and remember my times there. The weird, strange drunken times. And that was my little pocket in time. I can say I lived then.

~Riv.