It is not often that one gets to participate in the precise phase of transition from someone’s former life to a future one.

It began with a shot – what was it?
Followed by a Kamikaze.
Washed down with some Massatucky Brown.
I just played pool.

There are no photos. The transition is undocumented. Except for here. Maybe somewhere else, too, but you’re on your own to fix location and pin down time. You’ll fail, of course. Time passes, the moments go. Some cycle back (most, actually, repeat in endless iterations with minute changes in variables) but certain times, special times, are unique in their unrepeatability.

Go, Man, Go!

One thought on “schnockered”

  1. Thanks Steph!!
    The cyclical motion of those moments, especially certain moments involving copious amounts of alcohol all-too-quickly consumed, contributed significantly to the cyclical nature of the moments that made up the following day… 😉
    So much so that I could not begin to recollect said moments until I had recovered sufficiently (not quite there yet…) However, my stomach and I have reached a preliminary agreement whereby I am allowed to recollect snippets of the conversation, and I must say I wish I had been able to soberly observe my own schnockered ramblings. They, too, were probably unique in their own unrepeatability – and that’s probably a good thing 😉
    Thanks for being there – you really mean a lot to me and I am honored you were there to facilitate the transition 🙂

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