Neon Dreams

The night is fairly mild, and I walked home happy. Very happy, and I probably shouldn't be writing, as I'm sure to write something daft. At least I'm not cooking. I'm fairly sure stir-frying wouldn't be the wisest activity upon which to embark right now, considering how much I've drunk this evening.

It was spitting earlier, when I went out. Spitting from the sky, and there was a conversation as to the exact frequency at which drops descended. Three per second was suggested, but quickly combatted with four per second. It doesn't matter now, and arguably never did, but the paving stones are damp and riddled with water without containing actual puddles.

The world doesn't spin, but it bubbles with effervescent good will. Some drinks are too colourful and wonderful to seem real for everyday sobriety, but I can't help but want more.

I'm struggling to manage not to wake up tomorrow with an imprint of my keyboard upon my forehead.

Tonight was a good night, and even as I wish it had never ended, I dwell upon the pleasure of its acquisition, of the choices and events that led to my happy time passed. Most predominantly I dwell upon the choices and events of the evening itself. The magnificence of the precipice of closeness built.

Even as I farewelled friends and more significant friends at the street corner I turned to watch goodbye, but a large car drove in front to obscure my vision in the dark. I walked home in the mild damp, and for some reason a randomly drunk girl was pulling her jeans up over her bare bottom, leaning precariously upon a red car of some kind. Her friends seemed to laugh at her as I passed, and presumably she continued staggering for quite some distance as I turned into my street and spotted out the friendly glow of my kitchen.

There's always a light in our window, no matter how empty the house. The key seemed easier in the door than it usually did, and the stair trivial. I tripped over spare blankets as I walked in my room, but I wrote this whole entry whilst walking down the street.