The IGA down the road just started stocking those whipped cream soda bulbs with NO in them, and there’s something about it which really pulls everything into focus.
That glorious trembling-on-the-edge-of-the-abyss moment when you suddenly Understand. Y’know? You understand everything. And it’s so beautiful. And then you fall..
And then you wake up.
And there’s all these people swirling around.. my Mum.. baby sis (the original Toots).. everyone I’ve ever had sex with is in there. Mite & Firedrake are in there.. Lady J.. the accursed Mr Henley.
So many people, swirling around. Are any of them even real? Or am I just imagining them? Is there a difference? What a ridiculous question. But beautifully so.
But it isn’t the afterglow.. it’s the moment.. that moment when you see through infinite worlds and you swoon and bite your lip and it’s a beautiful gesture and it’s perfect and.. ahh.. the beautiful language-crucifying perfection of it all. And simultaneously there’s this ahh.. and you feel pain and taste blood and the ahh is actually nasty grinding ouch. And the beautiful flaw that makes the whole cosmic punchline so perfect is actually, you know, quite a serious problem (of course – how could it be otherwise?) and it’s gonna be a lot of work.. and back in the meatshow you’ve just gouged a great big chunk out of your lip and it hurts.
But you gotta laugh, incha.
Without the sour, baby etc