We are young.

We are young.

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Young in the nights that we wish would last forever. With the strangers that carry our broken hearts, we hopelessly wear on our sleeves. We cheers to the dark nights and the magic it invokes in us. We wait for the nights to become who we really are and show our true faces to strangers. The close confides of these quarters and the drinks that never stop until we say when.

I would drink the oceans dry if it meant that a moment like this would last forever. That the bullshit emotions of the day would wash away with every drink. Here’s to the nights that felt as if life was being lived and our decaying corpses were alive. Where strangers become friends and the music never stops. Every song you couldn’t bring yourself to like becomes your favorite. The more you slur your words, the more the words of the song come alive. Word for word, line for line, and drink after drink. I feel alive. I am not who I was in the day, because it’s who I am at night that’s alive.

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Time has stopped in spinning the wheel of regret and worry. Here equipped with the liquid courage we need to break free from the realities of our daily lies. I feel nothing yet feel everything in between. For the first time it felt okay to be where I am. Everything for the first time felt okay. That my mistakes lead me to where I need to be. With the people that remind me of home and the nights that would last forever. I may not know where the future leads me, but at this moment we are beautiful and young.

You learn a lot about yourself right around last call. You learn a lot about your friends right around 2 am. I wish I had a photograph for every one of those nights that I felt alive. For every night I toasted to youth, the future, and every new beginning. It didn’t matter how much you fucked up, because a drink of a liquid apology would take it all away. But after night fall comes the sobering morning. Every sobering morning comes with a moment to fall apart. I don’t feel so young anymore. Once again I am reminded that I am not going anywhere. Where am I going, where do I belong, why am I surrounded by the broken, the battered and the bruised? All we want is for someone to carry us home. Wash away the night and sleep away the days of regret and mistakes.

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We are not young. No matter how many drinks we drink, we will never drink away our sorrow. How foolish to believe otherwise. But for a brief moment, we felt alive. We felt young and for a moment we were all equal in our misfortunes and mistakes. Here’s to another night of waking up and hoping for the best. Another night of drinking our problems away and finding someone to carry us home.

Just carry me home tonight

11/6/2005

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