December 27, 2006

• happiness is a slightly overwarm, overcrowded room, orange curtains, mismatched cushions. hearty creamed chicken sprinkled with a bit of those sundried tomatoes we couldn't afford. the smell of freshly-baked bread, the laughter of drunken friends. the bohemian glory of crowding somewhere, shoulder to shoulder, fed with only the nourishment of solid conversation.

   

  but happiness fades. time encroaches but slowly, passing us by. room lights pale, just a little, orange-red to orange-grey. food tastes a little simpler, a little cleaner, a little colder. air is controlled a little better, a little more like the ideal 72 degrees that is room temperature. friends dwindle in numbers, each heading for a separate dream on a different horizon.

   

  at the end, this is the room that was us - and all that is left is the mismatched cushions.  

   

   

  ***

   

  in other news, hilarity

   

  AnonymousFriend: yeah, i think half the fun of drinking is being able ot get away with stuff

   

  so true. SO true.

  • 3:22 am
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