We're all gorgeous and magical and indestructable and high, always high. No one can touch us. We spend our days being smarter than you and our nights being prettier. We bathe in glitter and narcotics and we're never not inebriated. We live together and love together and laugh together. We remind ourselves of nights before and since and laugh because the memories come so suddenly. We fight and then we make up. We kiss and struggle and dance until we are sweaty, sweaty, but the hair whips our faces and we go for another round and wipe the makeup from our cheeks because come on guys it's only four-thirty we're not done yet. Our bloodstreams light a path through our bodies and we are glow-in-the-dark princesses, our smiles bone white and visible for miles. We wear red lipstick and leather pants and we don't just think that we're incredible, we know so. We collapse in chairs or on bars or against the brick wall for just a second but we don't ever sleep because there is too much to do. We are quicksilver, we are inseprable. We are thin and pretty because we don't eat, we drink, and our eyes are glassy and huge because we are having too much fun. We come together we leave together and we go places that you don't and wish you could. We document everything in pictures so that we can remember something somehow. We love hard and we lust hard and we fuck hard and we hurt hard. It's an orgy of emotion, a he-said-she-said life, rivalries and anger and tears that are all dissolved in time for next weekend. It's the same tight group, a family of junkies, and everyone rotates their drama from time to time. Everyone hurts together, everyone lives together, everyone dies together. We cry amphetamine tears on the stairs and feed each other liquor to make the pain go away. Our mouths burn with liquid fire and our hearts ache with something we can't quite place and we take another hit and we forget for a little while. Get busy living or get busy dying. We flash each other lightning fast texts so we can remember every hilariousy glamorous thing any of us said or did. We pass out on each other's beds and couches and pillows, our cheeks pressed together, breathing beer into each other's ears and dreams. We wrap arms and legs and bodies around each other for a minute or an hour or a whole night and then leave before we wake up the next morning, stepping out into the rising sun wearing too much glitter to be respectable and laughing at Sunday morning because we just don't give a fuck, do we. Night melts into night melts into night melts into day and we all become the same being, a glamorous mess with a million glossy lips and a million wide open eyes and a million skinny hips and we are all laughing the same way and we are all saying the same things are we are all drinking the same drink and we are all fucking the same boys but it doesn't really matter. We share clothes and sweat and boyfriends and at the end of the night we hold each other up, laughing still, as we buy crystal streams of water from the vending machines in our filthy dorms. We hold each other's hair and feed each other pretzels and tuck each other in. Everyone has a shoulder to cry on and a bucket to puke in and a dream to dream and everyone is okay for right now, just for right now.