You know when you find yourself at an after after party. Sitting about on the floor. And there's a beer soaked patch on the carpet which you keep accidentally putting your hand in. You've crushed up the last pills to snort, turned the baggies inside out. It's all wearing off. Reality is crashing in. Everyone's gone silent and weirdly introverted, thinking about what a mess their life is, dwelling on horrible memories. Someone says they're going to the shops, but you can't even be arsed speaking to this stranger to say you want a diet coke, even tho only hours ago you were enthusiastically talking to them about, something or other. Besides you don't even know their name. And how the fuck are you going to get home.

That's what it's like to use nostr.