Originally posted January 9, 2007.
[reposted because of this]


I know I've overused this line: but really, I was too drunk to know what I was doing. Well, okay, perhaps I was just a tad bit (maybe even a wee bit) aware of my actions, but the lychee martini blocked out Reason and made me say things I never would have said under normal circumstances.

Or (and this seems more plausible) perhaps the martini was my liberation. Instead of rendering Reason immobile, it set it free, unclipping its wings and letting it surge through the air like a thirsty mosquito. Hence, the blood sucking that followed.

Perhaps those things needed to be said, after all. Perhaps turning an otherwise tragic story (i.e., gen's pain) into a ridiculous farce was the perfect ending to an otherwise dull evening. Perhaps, and I'm obviously grasping at straws here, Gen willed it to happen. If only to hyperventilate into a smelly plastic bag and purge out the last of her lingering desire for ken.

Whisper your wish to a butterfly and release it, I've been told. Its wings will carry your wish to the one who may grant it.

The terrifying sound of Gen's breathing as she bent over an unsanitary piece of plastic may have been moans of pain. Or, they could have been the broken notes of yearning. Wishes and desires whispered to the wind.

For, as you and I know, the wind can travel to worlds that butterflies know nothing about. And perhaps, just perhaps, he who is gen's salvation inhabits one of those worlds.