What it’s Like to be a 24 year Old Alcoholic

Louisa Leontiades Addiction, Vile Depths

Paris social scene is a mixture of stale urine and white napkins, tramps breathing their gum-stinking breath over high-class dinner cruises, students with yellow fingers philosophizing over home rolled cigarettes, Arabs running cheap knock off carts full of plastic Eiffel towers and ex-patriot business men lusting over models on the chic hangouts near Place de la Concorde.

I like to dabble in all of it – even dare I admit it, the occasional pool of urine which splashes on my boots when I leave the crumpled, decrepit bars in the Latin Quarter at 5.30 am. It reminds me of my vile humanity and that I belong in the gutter which is incidentally where I passed out last night.

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