I'm not saying I got a kiss, but if I did I didn't have to hold my breath and neither did the other person as far as I know. All the conversations at 12:00 were for the most part intelligible, inthat there was no overt slurring of vowels, and none of my favorite "I love you mans". Thank God for small wonders.
It did cross my mind how does one approach the dreamed of new years hook-up when the other person isn't under the influence? I have always had to rely on that slight advantage, I'm not the prettiest boy at the dance, and knowing you are being viewed with absolute (not the vodka) clarity, is scary.
You can put off the realization of your own gruesomeness until the next morning as you are being shown the door after a barrage of stilettos and insults, knowing that the liquor was the cause of a sad start to your new year. But what to do when sober with no place to hide your defects, with shots of Tequila?
It's simple you slip out into the cold night at 11:45 and sing ol lang syne along with the poor DJ still working at midnight.
New pages if you like.
I set a lot of stuff on fire and my brother has the scars to prove it. Nobody is addicted at first use of fire. It takes time. But that first rush does plant a seed for some of us. We have a different relationship with the flames.
Normal people use fire for its intended purpose, cooking, heating, smoking, the way God gave it to us. But some of us take it farther, like I did.
I knew it was wrong, but knowing something is wrong and accepting that fact and abiding by the rules doesn’t matter when you have that special feeling for something that powerful.
We are powerless over fire, but we think we can control it. We know better than the rest. We have been trained with it. We are the pros, it’s our game. We won’t get hurt, we know what we are dealing with and we aren’t alone. So we tell our selves. But in that moment, that pure state of life and death, we dance with the beast by ourselves.
Without ever having had that experience firsthand it can be hard to grasps for the average person, but I’ll try to explain our strange ballroom dance.
First there are rules, for the beast as well as the firefighter. No one goes to the dance stag, at least at the beginning, things change at the dance from second to second. You may have to go it alone sometimes. Just keep your head when you do.
It’s a beautiful ball, every sense is involved there is no room for boredom at our parties. It is an event in every proposition of that word.
First your eyes know that there is in fact a celebration at hand. From inside a speeding big red truck your gaze is met by that not so subtle wink from the beast. A header we call it. If you are lucky you see it as soon as you leave the station.
That big handshake in the sky that says hey how are you? Wanna come to my party? Oh yeah, we want to go to the party. The mere sight of just a puff of smoke brings a set of physical reactions that trigger the addiction.
Your whole body erupts. Every inch of you wakes as if hit with a bat. Fight or flight it’s called, our only desire, to fly, to fly faster to the fire. Fight is all we think. Kick its ass. But not too soon, nothing worse than a little fire. What a disappointment to find a little fire, or worse, a fire already extinguished by some amateur. Stay out of our business, we don’t go to your place of employment and try to do your job, so stay out of our establishment, please. Really!