thewordofweb (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewordofweb) wrote2009-12-28 08:54 pm
thewordofweb) wrote2009-12-28 08:54 pm
[For Sirius]
In the grand tradition of love-lost, I've found myself a drink, a dark and dank area, and a good block of hours in which to spend my time devoting a love letter to a strong drink that's never going to love me so much as I'm going to use it and then throw it away in minutes, like a wad of tissue that's served its purpose. The scotch is strong at the jazz club and the music is incessantly annoying, giving me a headache, but it's better than drinking alone and it's better than drinking with someone who knows me.
God forbid we have to talk, then. So instead, there is this. And maybe I let my eye wander here and there, where it will. Maybe I just can't help myself and maybe I'm looking to punish myself, as though Joe's vanishing is all my fault. What does it matter, really? All I know is that I have a good strong drink and the weather outside is frightful, so there's no going out to sea.
There's just being here.
God forbid we have to talk, then. So instead, there is this. And maybe I let my eye wander here and there, where it will. Maybe I just can't help myself and maybe I'm looking to punish myself, as though Joe's vanishing is all my fault. What does it matter, really? All I know is that I have a good strong drink and the weather outside is frightful, so there's no going out to sea.
There's just being here.