and you'll never get a chance to forget

everything was merry. ben concocting drinks in the kitchen, mayu cloyingly hospitable, the way people streamed into the flat, careless and digging everything, as i sat unmoored and out to sea, swimming in my beer and searching for something. it was a party.

music played, some indecipherable hip hop trying to topple dead and bigger gods. soon the living room was full, and people spilled into the kitchen. everybody talking about the next city they're moving to, the next country, where to leave a mark, this new generation of restless ambition and all of a sudden american dreams laid before the sacrificial alter of move, go, spill.

"say chris, if you move to l.a. are you gonna have to buy a car?"

"no way, man. my bike will be perfect around santa monica." and the like.

we talked about football and who's following who where. to what ends? does it matter?

as the night wore on, it grew louder. dan asked about my work, and i told him i saw long fields where the wind whips over the ocean and things are simple like, and perhaps there are exigencies, yes. and he was excited about moving to brooklyn with mayu. he twisted one and only to forget, and i went larking. i saw jen out on the deck smoking, so i joined her and asked about san francisco and future plans, and joking, "there will be pretty raindrops on our eave some day, sweetheart." it was a great madhouse party.

more beers and i became drunker. there was another party down the street, and on the sidewalk were busy feet devouring the soft city night, the whole world roaring around us, my mind spinning a mad carousel. and that's when i decided to go upstairs, some people were leaving, ryan and ava found there way to ryan's room, and i climbed the stairs, halfway up, dodging the box of records to stare out the window. i liked watching the willow beneath the sad streetlight. when i arrived at the top, i walked toward a room. two wild creatures were standing face to face in the middle of the room, both smartly dressed, something quite beautiful and twisted about them. i could hear her say, "tell me i'm beautiful," her glassy eyes blazing insolently in the dark room. he began to speak, and there was something tragic on his lips. she pressed her finger over his mouth, her long fingernail digging into his upper lip, possibly drawing blood. and then they moved mysteriously, undressing each other, all flesh and madness, as they spun towards the window, the sad car headlights piercing their sweet, dark dramatics.

i moved into the next room, and crashed, fully clothed onto the bed, falling into a deep, awful sleep.