Saturday, June 25, 2011

House Party: Epilougue

Now it was nothing but flashes. The drive up Lake Shore was dark, with clouds clogging out all the night sky. Street lamps were stars. I was dancing in my brain; my nerves were firing and my body felt like it was under a steady stream of electric stimulation. I was thumping, heartbeat, warm, desire…and light, light, light, danced in my head, in my fingers. I wanted to run my hands through the clouds. I wanted to run my hands through the world.

The light glowed orange in northern Chicago, the trees were talking to us and urging us home, home, home...I was passing into the otherworld, where everything was bright electric light, and swirls of colors and sounds.

Young Kubrick was in the chair when we walked up the stairs, and he told us about his adventures with Tino, who had won over the hearts and minds of his boyfriend's family.

“He was much loved; he soaked it up, and when he had enough he went and passed out on a rug.”

I can imagine; my dog could be such an attention whore.

My brain was swimming. I kept thinking flashes, moonbeams and silk, and fuzzy finger passing and my phone tick, tick, ticked.

“The Electrician is here, I’m going to go say hi.” And I tripped down the stairs, out the doors and found the Electrician an orange glow in a pool of light.

“I’m drunk.”

“I can see that.”

“I’ve had a crazy night.”

“Want to go for a walk and tell me about it?”

The thought was nice. I think I said yes. I think I said yes but let’s sit down for a moment. I think I said no. I can’t remember. I was on the edge of universe and it all became a squishy darkness and an unbearable light. I talked, talked, talked and spilled out words into the heavy pressure of Chicago, it weighed down on me, and I was talking to the city and telling it about how magical it was.

“Sara.”

“Mmm…mmm…”

“Sara, come on; time to go home.”

I was asleep, or had fallen asleep, or I was awake and dreaming. The Electrician grabbed my hand and took me back toward the Bard’s.

“I can do it.”

“I know you can, but I don’t have anything better to do.”

I let myself in on the first try or the tenth try or we scaled the building or we fly I can’t remember. I opened the door “I have company,” I announced and promptly disappeared into the bathroom to pull on a bathrobe for sleeping. The Electrician and the Bard and Young Kubrick were talking.

“It’s about being engaged.”

“It’s what?” I tried to catch up. I moved the Electrician so I could make up the couch for sleep.

Engagement; the ability to engage others in conversation, or in life. It was about being the opposite of Boring and boring. The Bard sometimes called it having a project. I interjected, I tried to talk about engagement and it somehow devolved into more dreams and randomness. I talked about Korea. I talked about girls. I remembered them all, the whole line of them. They were standing there watching me and smiling and giggling, and they were beautiful. I invited them into my story. I was surrounded by girls and laughter and soft talking.

I wasn't sure if I was still talking or if I was asleep and dreaming. The world was quiet and dark, with my being running around the universe peaking in light corners. A hundred hushed voices, soft hands, and quiet whispers. They were all whispering. The sound was deafening, dangerous, and desirable.

I woke up on the couch alone. The world had grown cold and quiet. I wondered when it had all ended. My head was throbbing. My tongue was heavy and felt full.

I tried to remember what happened last night.

2 comments:

Maladaahn said...

Such a profound description of late night and early morning in the city after a crazy night of debauchery and "engagement."

It brings back so much. Thank you...

Saradevil said...

It took six days, seven posts, and over 7000 words, but in the end I think I managed to capture the five hours that composed the evening.