A whole other weird can...

Last night was another gong show. This time around I was only partly involved. Asking for a kiss and hopping the fence into the Japanese gardens is not nearly as bad as stumbling down to the beach and swimming nude, molesting people and later falling into Jeff's closet in a gin-induced haze. This time around I was more babysitter than anything else. My most uttered phrase of the night was "Evan you are not helping" as I tried to convince drunky mcdrunk to stop drinking and go to bed.

And my melancholy continues to grow, just feeling so empty up there and empty down here and unappealing in general to everyone. Conversations I thought I wanted have turned out to be empty and tiring, small talk spent feeling lost and alone, grasping for something more solid out of nothing. Yet another time that I am too far out on a limb. It seems I spend my life that way. Today I stepped off the bus and raised my face into a branch, a face-full of wet leaves, and as the water dripped off my face and onto my neck I thought, "thanks world, that's a nice metaphor."