things i like

• The way a persons eyes can light up sometimes. It happens with rare, anonymous people on occasion, but when it’s with someone special, with someone you know and care for and consider, then it is extraordinary. It’s like seeing a person burst, and knowing so clearly that they are bursting. That they are shocked or impressed or inspired by something. Something that, to them —and by consequence, to you—was grand and important.

• Having an impression left upon me, by someone I have just met once. Someone that has installed a handle upon my memory, one that can pull me back at will. Someone who will pull me back and when they do I forget why I ever worried. There are those people out there and they have left their mark on me.

• When a Frisbee flies perfect from your hand to theirs

• A good Manhattan at a bar where no one bothers you but everyone politely stares. Not into space or even just the distance, but at you and the walls and their drink and at you.

• That final yawn before calling it a night.

off our chest

People walk into the bar with secrets choking at their throat. They sit down and order a drink —a pint of beer or a rocks glass filled with whiskey— and they let their eyes wander and breath in the air from the bar. The pleasant must of drunken conversation and old wood circulating in a familiar song. They take a sip and let the alcohol wince through their body. Then they set their glass down and lower their brow and search for eye contact across the bar.

They find it and they nod to whomever it is they know and they raise their glasses and take another sip, keeping eye contact for good luck. Then they exchange pleasantries, the grind of their job, the trials at home, the minor celebrations, the headache of it all. And they then lean in and say in a lower volume —in a register that signals privacy and discretion— a hint to just what it is that they are hiding. A remark loaded with a wink and a nudge. A phrase that begs for further explanation.

And they always get a bite.

They then move over to a closer stool, with the secret boiling inside of them, almost about to spill out, and they place their elbow as close as they can to the person, the eye contact, the bite, that they’ve involved themselves with, and lean in cautiously —almost as if they are having second thoughts— and lay it on them.

Their secret, their hidden truth, the poison inside of us. They let it crash out in hisses and whispers, letting the clink of cocktail glasses and the drone of old school r&b drown out the juicy thrill of our own personal dirt and shame. And to the most satisfying reaction of gasp and sighs. A genuine reception of awe and jealousy. The delicious taste of intimate information is too tempting for most. We get fat on it.

Then, after a few more drinks under the glow of silent adoration, they begin to make their exit. With cheeks flush and dimples dented in. Or smirks folding at their cheek and a modest swagger as they grab their coat. They tip the bartender a little extra if they can (but these days they usually cant), and feel relieved with themselves as they shuffle towards the door. As they open it they wave one last good-bye, but no one really notices, and they stumble on out into the cold of freedom.

step one

ive been meaning to dry out. im not aiming to cleanse my entire system, but just lay off the spirits for a while. i cant really do it though. its a difficult task. i work at a bar, for one. and its not that i have to drink there, but im some what of an alcoholic, so due to convenience, i feel i must. then there are the days im not working at the bar. the days im working elsewhere. and those days put a bind on my time, leaving me these open moments of thought and emotion that are beginning to make me nervous. and since i am a rather anxious person, all my burdens fester and rise until i eventually have to dull the swelling. usually that calls for another drink.

im convinced its because im caught in a tide of conflict, and once the pressure recedes ill return to my normal, less dangerous and more tolerable, drinking habits. my one or maybe two cocktail in the evening habits. my early afternoon pint of water habits. my breakfast habits and my exercise habits. of course, ill have new habits. it is, after all, these habits that help make me up.

but for now its beer in the early afternoon and brown liquor in the early evening. a steady diet of alcohol, nicotine, words and random sensations.

even the music in me has gotten all muddy from the drunk. im a mix of all these genres with no coherent progression. i have to dj on saturday and i cant begin to begin. i dont know what to play. the confusion of it all bubbles up inside of me and releases in small burst of melody. i should play this or i should play that or no i should play these or no wait this sounds better. it is a mish mash of grooves that either everyone or no one likes. fuck em or please em. it should be win win, no?

but thats small matters. just a thing. and i can do that while drunk. no problem.

its every other hour im worried about. i need to get a good head on my shoulders. i need sound mind and reasonable ideas. i cant be half there all the time. i cant be lost. i need to be focused. able bodied. ready to move forward. there has to be more in me than just a pep talk.

so i have been meaning to dry out, but it aint working right now. in fact, if it were a plan or strategy, it would be failing miserably. its not though, not yet. its just an idea. something to explore while im drunk or getting there. eventually things will change. they always do. i just gotta be patient, right?