saturday

there's this certain point of time right between being tipsy and full on drunk where i will stand in a bar and look at the people around me and see a different species, almost, engaged in their daily or nightly behavior of talking, leaning wobbly into each other, laughing into each others' faces while their eyes don't really see anything. i feel like an alien come to earth: hell-o we are he-re to -ob-serve earth-ling. don't worry, it's not a lonesome or scary or discomforting feeling at all. if anything, it's fascinating and detached. plus i'm self aware enough to realize that i've done the same exact things. there are plenty of times where i talk to people the whole night and by the end of the night remember exactly nothing of what was said, though i do remember the tunnel of focusing on their faces, their smiling words, their flirtatious movements. sometimes i want to shout "IT'S JUST A DANCE" and then we'll wake up, join hands, make a ring and clap for the performances. othertimes i'm happy enough to just keep dancing my part too.

this is another point of time, when i am between being sober and full on tipsy. when i think these strange existential thoughts that make me wonder if anyone else thinks them to or if i am, irrevocably, different from the rest in some fundamental way and will i ever find my people? there is someone who i talk to like this, but to whom i can't be like this in real life: we're both constrained by some aspect of the real world when we interact there but over the internet, we can be as revealing or as free as we choose. and i wish that we could be like that in real life but i accept that we never really will be--and maybe what would be, in reality, would be tainted in a way by the constraints of person to person interaction, all those million variables we read, adjust to, have no control over. sometimes i wonder though.

there's the memory of a green glow stick around my head, crazy epileptic white lights, a pitcher on a table, my friend's lovely glasses, a wooden table, smoke in the air, a bathroom, balloons. sometimes there's a monologue in my head that names all these discrete things while i try to take their meaningful, realistic, sum in the real world.

it is past my bedtime as can be clearly seen through these incoherent existential ramblings, which are best served cold without an internet to hear