Did I even live yesterday? My stomach burned angrily, having had to deal with an overdose of legal poison. I was in and out of consciousness, embedding jazz on to my synapses and reading about Sudanese refugees. I felt my body quivering when I woke up. I had been shivering in the night. Something close in description to delirium tremens through the afternoon. I was foolish and my memory is clouded with idiotic passages of time and conversation with the DJ and bartender. I met so many smiling faces. They were happy that mine was in their midst, acting like I know everyone. Introducing myself and making jokes about the true situation of my presence. I rent that room. You are partying in my front yard. Open bar and a creative bartender caused a sunday headache. Also, the kidnapping of my phone and the deletion of messages and people. The creepy taking of pictures and the ignoring of best wishes and intent. It's cool. I move soon. No lasting harm done. I met the parents of girlfriends of kids of my land lord. I made it work. I laughed and made jokes. They convinced me to eat and to make connection. They urged me to be social but I couldn't do much until everyone let Debbie get them drunk. Big lapse where the night ended. I'm not sure. No idea in fact. I probably passed out outside and nearly fell in the pool. The floating candles did not work very long. They all grouped together by the end of the night, as if the yard was slanted. The basketball court was a dance floor. Yellow and green banners on everything. I assume these were the colors of the future team the son will couch. Free food. Beer and tequila shots. Mixed drinks. I felt taken advantage of in the morning. My privacy had been invaded. My memory lost but overtly harmless. Just rude messages sent and erased. Conversations read. Pictures forwarded. Not too bad. There has been worse. Drinking so heavily after supposed detox, I am ashamed. But that's probably why it happened, I hadn't had a sip in a while. Felt drunk after first beer. Sat on the diving board and had a nice conversation with and old friend. Talked to tall basketball couches about James Taylor. Sports psychology. Jazz and music. Living this musical dream.
That was a blur.
That was a blue.
Friday was one of the greatest days of my life. I have not recounted quite yet.
Saturday/Sunday were as fun as they were wasteful. Sometimes you need to depart from normal consciousness. It's only healthy to go crazy. I hate blacking out but this is so rare it's interesting to try to piece a few hours together.
Weird brain tricks out of memories. Nothing special probably. But the appeal of some insanity is there. I'll never know what happened.
