After a fun party with fun people, it seemed like a sentimental indulgence to let one remember that it was not the first time to have been drunk and lost on those selfsame streets. Then again, it felt not that indulgent, nor sentimental to remember the sharp difference between those times and this. And after that realization the young carefree people on those streets in the soft fall night did not feel so carefree at all, and pity and compassion seemed just as appropriate emotions as envy.
(ps. On that night this seemed like not a self-pitying, sentimental position but a serious, seriously thought point. On sober, mature reflection the case for the prosecution seems overwhelming though.)
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