January 1, 2007
A drunk year-end
2pm. The first day of the new year.
I managed to open my eyes, my eye lids seemed heavy enough to cover the whole world. I also made a huge cappuccino to make sure that I was really awake.
My house was left without any decency except my bedroom. All my CDs were scattered around the floor, the candles stood there like exhausting statues with tears on the street of Paris, the dark coal in the fireplace just showed that it was once beautiful and passionate, the wrapping paper was torn everywhere under the Christmas tree and the numerous bottles were lying in different poses laughing at me. Yes I had a party and I was drunk. It was obviously awful and awfully obvious.
Apparently there were more evidence of my being drunk---------the pictures someone intelligently took using my camera, some incoming phone calls this morning, no this afternoon precisely, to ask me whether I was recovered and some vague memories of my leaving some messages on someone's voice box. For the first time in my life, I did not feel apologetic for being drunk given limited number of times that happened. I seemed to have all the decent reasons, or subconsciously I indulged myself in doing so. In any case, it was me last year, wasn't it? When I was young and silly, or I should say younger and sillier?
So there was it. Another year was officially over. Was that all a year-end celebration left us: A big mess, a huge headache, a stain on my sexy dress and undescriptable void and emptiness?
Posted by pengbo at January 1, 2007 2:43 PM