7.1.17

here’s a thing that won’t make sense to you. we had no ice so we used frozen mangoes. we poured in twelve parts tequila to eight parts triple sec to four parts lime. then we cut up fresh mangoes and peaches and watermelon and put those in as well. we put the blender on high and let it smash shit up until it ran smooth. then we drank. my god, we drank so much, and grilled food, and drank, and pruned ourselves in the hot tub, and then drank more. when everyone left and I was alone, I walked by your window and saw that it was the only lighted thing in the vicinity, and there you were sitting at your desk with your head in your hands, and i thought, Wow, there is a man who gets it, there is a human who feels inside what i also feel. what you were feeling was not beautiful to you, but it was reassuring to me because it made me feel more like my pain was alright. there you have it, a moment shared between two drunks, and the best kind of moment because neither of us had to put effort toward it–you were in misery and i was a witness.

written at 12:58 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA.