Sunday, January 07, 2007

7.1.07

I'm extremely tired. My eyes are refusing to be coordinated (like a certain drunken cat I know) and my hands don't feel like moving, and my legs are numb. This is the worst possible time to type this out, but then again, it might be the best. I don't aim to be lucid.
Many of my friends have written some quite nice little things on the new year. Emotionally, I think they've covered it all. One, for example, was drunk, and the other had a baby trying to rage against the world while they wrote theirs, so I cannot say that my state is particularly trying. And I've had a nice, nice, nice day. Started the day with a vintage car rally, which was better than the dog show; and ended it with a tale of a dancing penguin which got me humming "Staying Alive" and jiving in my head. And I had some nice company. And yet, and yet...
As I start getting used to another year, I find that all the words of kindness linger on when I no longer need them. I read Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas, and I know what its like to be free and be totally helpless at the same time. Like a man on an ether binge. Old Gonzo Thompson says that ether makes your body lose grip on reality. Everything's wonky, you're wonky, the laughing peon at the edge of the University green is a hyena, and you say "Good day, Jose" to a passing policeman. But you're brain's fine, and is a little curious about the body's antics. Hmm, he thinks, funny. Ether. It makes you free, but you're helpless, helpless, helpless. Hope this year's not an ether binge for anyone that I know, and that covers a lot.
And in the end the love you take
Is equal to the love you make.

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