Red Red Wine

Second glass of wine. Two separate bottles. I feel this more than I do shots or mixed drinks. My mind has quieted enough to paint this screen. I've wanted to write several times tonight, but my head wasn't there.

Lanny called me a few minutes ago. He had me talking to someone named John at the bar. I wish I was there. I type that and put my head down to my forearm and think in darkness that the wish is somthing that is only real when I make plans to pursue the dream. Like a degree. Like a friendship. Like anytyhing.

Most people drink to forget. But I drink and I remember. I'm heavy now. I'm typing to friends & strangers. I wonder if I'll remember any dreams. I know I must go there now. I know I must turn this off. I know I must.

Believe me when I say I love so deeply that it is an art.