Rendezvous
13 July 06 : 05.32 PM
So it was lasted 59 seconds. The whole, Hi. Hello. I'm back. Oh. Yeah. So how's, erm, being back? bullshit talk. I wish it lasted longer.
Right after that, I called Danii.
Danii: What's up?
Me: Nothing, I just wanted to talk to someone. And you're the only person awake.
Looks at clock that says 1am. What a lousy lie.
Danii: It's only 1am.
Me: What revelation. You can't expect me to just call someone at 1am and go, hey how're ya and whatcha doin', right? It's not exactly lunchtime.
Danii: Oh right. So call me then.
Talking about who wrote gayer songs (Freddie Mercury or Brian May), methylenedioxymethamphetamine, clinical depression, one of my classmates' older brother, and chocolate fondue is a much more pleasant experience. It was almost strange talking about Wilson and how he used to see him all drugged out (in Wilson's words, zonked out) at his place with his brother.
When I realised what all of this meant, I knew that the 59 seconds didn't mean anything, not to the other one on the line, and maybe not to me anymore.