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>My small costal town has always been a very nice weekend escape for everyone from the neighboring large cities
>Mornings and afternoons are great, lots of hot chicks in bikinis sunbathing and shit
>After 6PM, masses of chav-wannabe (not in the UK) motherfuckers take control of entire town on weekends, blare shitty music out of cars until motherfucking 3 AM and fight drunk on the streets
>One summer Friday, 8PM
>Can't fucking take it anymore, I'm 5 blocks in from the coast and it's as if I have one ear on a 1000W subwoffer
>Fill a backpack with various things
>Get on a bus
>I live on one side of town, drive to the other
>Somewhat mid-sized island off the coast connected by a one-lane bridge, barely inhabited, it's basically a jungle
>Walk to far end of the island, looking out towards the blue sea
>The sun has maybe 5 minutes left before it sets
>It's fucking beautiful
>Can't hear shitty nigger music
>Open backpack
>Take out a flask of mead, self-made (shit is easy as fuck to do)
>Take out a favorite book of mine, "Martin Fierro" (You might know where it is I live now)
>Small gas lamp for light
>Sip mead, read book
>Grasshoppers chirping, the dry paper leaves being turned, someone on this island is grilling meat and I can smell it and hear a faint fire crackling
From then on; Every. Single. Friday. Until about 1AM, after that I'm tired enough that I fall asleep even with the loud shitty music anyways. I've gone through about 70 books since I started.