a memory

it is past midnight, and we are celebrating. around me, there are people i have kept at arms length. but i love them. we pause due to exhaustion, and in the middle of nowhere, i want to see the stars that the city robs from us, but unlike last night, it is cloudy.

i can't simply leave and escape and pretend i shouldn't make friends; sometimes i like quiet. most times, i like solitude. earlier, in a more naive portion of my youth, i thought living was being busy. that method has proven exhausting.

the house is bare. the carpet however, is plush. there is a feeling in the house. one of understanding, and this feeling that one is full...that one is satiated.

i am tired, but someone has set up a magic mic. this mic's chip is programmed, not with the immortalized classics --- "more than words" and "stay." it is rather ABBA heavy. yet, we know every song, and i give the show of my life when "winner takes it all" is selected.