He remembered a party where someone tried to explain the health benefits of artisanal cider. The room had gone silent. To the veterans of the Polish Friday, talking about "notes of apple" was like discussing the upholstery of a lifeboat while the Titanic was sinking. You don't drink for the taste; you drink for the temporary truce with reality.
The neon sign of the "24h Alcohol" shop flickered like a dying firefly, casting a rhythmic green glow over the sidewalk. Cezary stood there, not because he wanted to buy anything, but because the buzzing sound of the sign perfectly matched the low-grade anxiety he’d been nurturing since Tuesday. cezary_jurkiewicz_uzywki_w_polsce
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