August 21, 2005

• I fell asleep on the Subway, exhausted after 12 hours of no work that
  seemed like an eternity. And she sat down beside me and told me it was
  all ok; she told me he broke up with her. But when we embraced that
  hateful voice broke into my bliss: FINCH it yelled, FINCH IS NEXT. And as my consciousness was ripped back into reality, Rivers sang into my ears: Only
  in dreams, we’ll see what it means. Reach out our hands, hold onto
  hers. But when we wake, it’s all been erased. And so it seems, only in
  dreams.

  When I got home, I was anxious for sleep, to rid my mind of the
  thoughts that plagued it. But despite my exhaustion, my thoughts
  refused to retreat, and sleep refused to give me ground. So after an
  hour in the fray, I gave sleep it’s victory, and hoped for an ally in
  distraction. But distraction too, seemed out of my reach. Chatting with
  friends and the world of Azeroth both yielded naught.

  So I poured myself the stiffest drink I though I could drink without
  shuddering, and I put Weezer on the stereo to sing along to, and I
  began to clean my chaotic living room. And by the third such drink, and
  the third Weezer album, the house was clean, and I was playing Halo. My
  mind had given way to the drink. I was drunk at 6 pm, but I was having
  fun.

  But it’s midnight now, and the drink has worn off, and the truth won’t
  stay away. She left on a cruise today with the man she loves, and I got
  drunk alone. The worst part about that is: I consider it a victory.

  • 12:15 am
  • 3 Comments