It's 6 AM on a Sunday...

The world stands still and silent, yet my mind races on...

Been an interesting couple of days. Not all positive, not all negative, a weird blend of events that leave me where I stand. I don't know where to start our little confessional here. I need an old priest and a new priest... See, that's an Exorcist reference, we drown real emotion or expression in humor. A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, in the most delightful way.

I'd like to tell you where this all began, but again, i'm really not sure. We could root it back to something simple and drab, some stupid childhood memory that I can barely recall, but I don't know that there would be any truth or insight in it. I can tell you I got lit on Wednesday.

Yes, as often do they. This little anecdote starts with me getting drunk. I like it, it's fun. I'm pretty sure it's not healthy, and I know I smoke more when I drink, overall it seems like a bad idea. Theres a certain balance involved though, where as we weigh the effects and consequences of our actions verse the possibility for a good time. Usually, and when I say usually, it's because there is really never a guarentee or anything, usually we have a pretty good time. Really the evening began considerably earlier. I jumped out of work about an hour early, to make the Cavs game with J. Note, this was last Wednesday, LeBron put up a career record 43 points, and I was there. Then we went east. Tales of the east side. 185th and all, 185th and all the troubles it's known to bring. As is the American way, we'd assembled a colition of the willing. That's actually a poor term for the situation, because we basically kidnapped Dave. We went to Cebar's looking for Laurich, but it was packed so wall to wall, that we never made it through the door. We drifted down to Juniors, where no one ever wants to go because everyone always goes. It was suprisingly empty, not empty so much, as just not excessively full as it usually is. I could list the dozen plus people I ran into that I didn't want to, but such is the way the day before a major holiday. Either way, eventually we found Laurich, and ended up having a great time. I don't dance, I don't really like to dance, I'm tall and white and lanky and unco-ordinated and what not. But, there is something about the Laurich's that bring out the party in people. It's "interesting".

Either way, we eventually made it home. It was something like 3 am. The hour of sickness as we call it. We call it that, because at that hour, we induce vomiting to regain balance. It's not a pretty ordeal, and often the result of excess. But, who can call excess, you've got a bottle in your hand, you take that bottle down, this is the understanding. So, to continue this evening of poor descision making, I called an old friend. She was under the same state of mind, drunk and lonely as it were. So, she comes over, and hangs out for the evening.

That wasn't what we like to refer to as a "good descision". It didn't go well. I wasn't in a place physically where I could handle that sort of excitement, and sucessfully further ruined my evening. I've come to realize this sort of topic is something you've got to spend an entire post on to cover sufficiently, not that it's something I really want to talk about.

So, then it's Thursday. Thanksgiving. I woke up about 11 when she left. Jay was already gone. Made a call or two, established that there weren't any plans on the day. And, moved on to the couch, turned on CNN, and fell asleep. I woke up somewhere around 6 pm. Another day wasted. I was pretty pissy about it. I hate sleeping through days, as much as I feel like i'm wasting time normally, atleast when I'm awake I'm consciously making the descision to waste time. Not to mention I could've seriously dug on some turkey and stuffing. As much as I dislike the holiday season, I like the classic thanksgiving feast. Anywho, I jut over to 117th, and come to the serious and dastardly conclusion, that it's a holiday and everything is closed. Litterally. Nothing is open, so I hook back around, and head to Detroit. My favorite little chinese joint seemed like a decent recluse for the situation at hand. CLOSED. Damned the socialization and americanization process and how quickly we force everyone to be like us. Fortunately, the Greek crowd doesn't fall into line as quickly, so it was a Gyro sort of Thanksgiving. I was bitter and butthurt. Only cause the gyro was really crap. Eventually, I crash out, and find my way to Friday.

Work Friday, worked a lot on Friday. I worked 11 hours. I don't do that often, especially considering that the bulk of those 11 hours were spent painting. Which, i'm getting better at. So, i'm trying to figure out what I want to do with my Friday night. I didn't want to go out drinking again, cause that grows old, and I still resented my actions or shortcomings from Wednesday. Ahhh resent, you evil motherfucker. So, i'm sitting around, playing a lil CS:S, Counter Strike Source, the original counter strike, on the Half Life 2 engine. It's super fucking pretty, and a lot of fun. And, I get the call. I'd been waiting for the call, but i kind of assumed it'd never come.

I'm going to continue this tomorrow. I'm finally ready to sleep, got a little stress of my chest, and the exhaustion really set in.

Till Tomorrow Then,

-Rys4K