She Talks to Angels

It’s sort of odd the difference a day makes. A day, and 8 hours to sleep away fermented grapes. I had an entry all planned out as I smoked my last cig before turning in early. Lo and behold, today it is all but gone.

That happens to me a lot. Maybe it’s the evening, which always makes me more pensive than the day. Draws me to it more. Perhaps it is the alcohol. Who doesn’t get to thinking when they mix their brain cells with something that’s trying to destroy them? At any rate, today brings nothing, save for this little ditty. I think the best portrait of this phenomenon was painted in the movie City of Angels. I haven’t seen it in a while, but I know there is an evening of romance, desire, love, thoughts, emotions. Scene ends and the next begins a bright day with Meg Ryan alone in her crisp white bed and all the mystique has just completely disappeared, including Sarah McLachlan’s ‘Angel’ accompanying the mood.

So be it. I’d like to find more time to write. I’d like to find more time. I just always seem to find better things to do. You know, like immerse myself in mindless television. Yeah, that’s worth it.

Well, that’s about all I have, since I lost everything else. Perhaps it will return someday, perhaps not. Only time will tell. Hope you all have a mystical weekend with no rude morning awakenings.

Cheers.