smoke and dreams

Smoke and Dreams

William's birthday party forced an obligatory visit to the clubs on me: something which I had feared and avoided doing for years (I have residual gay Demophobia from my youth - where large crowds of gay people scare me), but ended up helpless to deny. The thorough inebriation of the self, made crystalline by such tinkering of the senses: bottles of champagne; imagine! An inept drinker; I lost my senses after but several cups ("you won't get drunk on champagne" - so I was told); rendering myself unable to perceive, nor comprehend the images and sounds around me.

I lost my digital camera, somewhere, sometime in that haze of night. I suppose I should be grieving, and yet here I am stubbornly believing that it will find its way back to me. There are certain people that I had wanted to meet, anticipatory, for the first time; yet the only memory that persists is of white beds and soft pillows.

I hope I didn't do anything silly last night.

I could really use some work on my alcohol tolerance level too.