2:30am, and the party is over. I drank enough, drank some more, and still got to draw a little. I feel a little disappointed, there was no drama. I feel like going downstairs and causing some trouble, just a little bloodshed before the night is out. Maybe I’m in the wrong town. Those girls I thought were Russian prostitutes turned out to be only French models.
It was a fantastic year of wedding parties. It is now time to look to the future. From this beautiful gutter, the only way to look is up, into that world where the streets are lined with tinsel. Lord have mercy.
1 comment:
The drama is probably on its way to being replaced with good old fashioned fulfilliment. And that is probably a very good thing. (French models though? Sounds dramatic to me!)
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