IV

Oh Theatre’s Brewery, how I love you. Not because you sell dark beer, not because it’s in one litter pints, not because it’s cheap, not because of the nice and sweet waitress with big boobs, not because I always come with friends, not because there’s always good music, not because I get to watch Bear Grylls, not because we always laugh, not because of the welcoming atmosphere and not because I can always go there. It’s because you make me feel happy, and that’s what anything you love should do to you, make you happy. I’m surprised I only fell once. Try walking outside while the roads are snowy and icy and you’re drunk. It’s an awesome experience. I never smile, especially when I am alone, but I smiled the whole bus ride home. It never happens. Never. But I’m drunk, I shouldn’t give a shit. Maybe I’m not drunk enough, I can still discern between feelings and thoughts. I’d love another beer, but I’d love it more if I could keep my chicken skewers down. It’s an awesome night.

II

I had a decent day, just like any other day, but different. Because, just as Shane the shrink said in Good Will Hunting, it’s the little things that count. And a little thing would be that feeling of being complete, content and just plain happy. It happens in such small amounts, it’s only fair to call it a little thing, despite its significance. And I’ll really have to agree to Andy as well, hope is a good thing, maybe the best. It’s also one of the worst things. Like a magnificent dream from which you only wake up to find it is, well, just a dream. But as long as the note of happiness is sustained I’ll choose to dance along. It’s truly an overwhelming feeling, when in a sea of despair and misery after a storm of hate you find a little plank of joy to hold on to… And though it’s a short-lived thing and I’ll plummet twice as low as high I was today, it feels as if  a burden has been lifted, if only for a while. And I guess that’s why we need all this negative feelings. Like after a year of nothing, let’s say pie, you finally do get a piece and by God, it’s the most amazing pie you’ve had. Maybe it’s because it’s just how you remember it, maybe it’s because you don’t remember it at all, but depriving ourselves of things makes them more and more precious. Like an inmate sniffing in the fresh air of freedom after 20 years.

On a more sober note, all I’m certain of is that you can’t be certain of anything. I don’t know what tomorrow’s going to feel like and I’d rather forget what I felt like yesterday, but today is the greatest day I’ve ever known.