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Location: Home.
Listening: "Watcha Want" ~Beastie Boys

I'll continue the other entry tomorrow.

Sitting here with the Beastie Boys bouncing off the walls to reflect my mood. Something came over me about an hour ago that I haven't felt in years. I've never had a name for it, but my reaction to it when it would hit, as it often did in my four years in college, was to climb out of my own window and descend into the city in search of just about anything to put it down. If I had to describe it, I'd call it a cloudburst. A flash flood. That moment when everything surges out over the walls. If I couldn't find direction for it, I knew that it would take me over. This was how I started drinking and, when that failed to satisfy, grabbing whoever was available (usually Austin) and bingeing on anything I could get my hands on, going through a week's supply in two hours and then getting myself kicked off a dance floor somewhere. I can still remember the look on one of the bouncers' faces when he tapped me on the shoulder: I'm sorry, ma'am, but you can't do that in here.

I clearly remember laughing before someone (again, probably Austin) threw me, still laughing, over his shoulder and we walked out into the street.

Whatever it is, it comes from one of those corners in which things are usually stacked very neatly and overlooked as a result. Every once in a while, something gets knocked off the pile and the whole thing collapses. Not a loss of sanity or even control, but a carefully monitored explosion. Something that reminds you that the body is an engine.

In other, stranger news, things are getting Weird around here. I came home and opened the mailbox to find that the mail had been torn to shreds. I just picked up the phone to hear a few quick breaths and then a dial tone on the other end.

Feh. I'm going to go cook dinner for Dan and Shanti.