here's how i'm celebrating your birthday
i'm flying off to cebu for the weekend. there's a national beer drinking competition and i got invited to watch. have free booze. bum in a nice hotel at the beach front. bikinis. bikinis. beer. beer. and some stray jack daniels.
i'm loving JD these days. learned to drink it a year ago. somebody told me it's the drink of the loser stuck in agony and despair. i don't think i'm a loser. i can deal with stuck. i drink it straight without even ice now. how about that?
there's something in its smoky aroma. the first shot that momentarily burns my lips and leaves with a slight tingly sensation at the back of my tongue. and for a while my mind spaces out, fills up with a heady rush of sadness and longing and contemplation that lasts only seconds. as the whiskey courses down my throat, all my senses dwell on its trail of heat. i become closed to the outside world. there is only me. after the first shot, i watch the remaining amber liquid sit in my glass, like it can keep a secret and drown it forever. life is an illusion in its protracted light.
i'm loving JD these days. learned to drink it a year ago. somebody told me it's the drink of the loser stuck in agony and despair. i don't think i'm a loser. i can deal with stuck. i drink it straight without even ice now. how about that?
there's something in its smoky aroma. the first shot that momentarily burns my lips and leaves with a slight tingly sensation at the back of my tongue. and for a while my mind spaces out, fills up with a heady rush of sadness and longing and contemplation that lasts only seconds. as the whiskey courses down my throat, all my senses dwell on its trail of heat. i become closed to the outside world. there is only me. after the first shot, i watch the remaining amber liquid sit in my glass, like it can keep a secret and drown it forever. life is an illusion in its protracted light.
entrada de bismuth a las
9:37 p. m.
4 comentarios:
for writers, there's lots of fun stuff on the menu: nicotine or alcohol or sex or melancholy. i think i know your favorite, as you do mine.
are you talking about mussolini's beerday? hahaha.
anyway, careful on Jack. he can get you pregnant, you know. LOL!
i think the jivaros have a saying like that: our everyday lives are only an illusion, behind which lies the reality of dreams.
incidentally, the jivaros are the only tribe to successfully revolt against the spanish empire, pouring molten gold down the visiting governor's throat until his bowels burst.
...which brings me to my pen-pals. i keep up with my pen-pals, but that won't make the newspaper tomorrow. why won't my pen-pals make the news?!
i miss reading about this mellow side of you. when we see each other in person, we get swayed easily into the throes of laughter and forget why we convened in the first place.
and with {illyria}'s post, i remember an abundance of one, the absence of the other, and the scarcity of the latter.
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