not quite new years

I'm sitting at Randy & Frederic's condo and I'm drunk. My fingers are numb. I have to hit the backspace key several time in order to correct the typos before they appear on the screen. There is a CD in the PowerBook on the TV that plays a song I like....it's a good CD. Randy(not Frederic's...but **mine**... is next to me and holding me while I type....ahh... warmth. I am happy to be here. I know it's simple...and that's the joy of it.

There are sounds coming from the kitchen. Mark...coughing.... and voices. I'm not sure what they're saying but it really doesn't matter. I wish that I could suspend myself in this time forever. There's no responsibility. There's not expectation. There's nothing more than the whim at which wind blows life a crazy curve ball and something glorious happens. (or doesn't.) And that's the point....nothing expected...nothing created other than the ripples of life flowing through each of us. I cry inside to think of the power of this...........(sigh)..... and I think of Nathan not here, sulking at home in a situation created quite by his own hands.

What time doesn't tell me, my instinct feels. One more night of intuition to lead me through a darkness that only lightens with the feel of a drunken body.

g'night

j.r.me