i especially wanted a drink tonight. red label dispersed in soda water perhaps. bacardi mojitos. a shot or two of any kind of vodka. or just a bottle of beer. a drink with. a drink for myself. and with a stick or two of surya.
i was told to expect a mega moon tonight, or was it tomorrow. like the mega star back in the philippines. mega moon reminded me of quentin tarantino's face spread out across a flat dark sky.
while playing with the ice in my glass of whiskey, a lady or two would notice the loser boy with a tarantino chin seemingly drowning himself in a glass of already diluted whiskey. i would notice a lady or two surreptitiously stealing condescending glances at me. and i would not care, for my intricate world could care nothing to do with condescending glances and secret thieves. and there she still was in that intricate world, a phantom-like feeling that she'd hold on to despite the obvious signs that she had flown, or might have already flown. a lady or two stealing condescending glances would not understand the apparent foolishness i had clung to. but of course, there was no drink and there could not have been a lady or two.
i particularly enjoyed the slow long walk home with the somewhat cool breeze of the night. a car with a familiar lady face stopped to offer a ride, an initial offer of friendship. i refused for the walk and the night and the breeze subdued me.