Priscilla, you gave your name but sadly I just don't recall it.

But I remember most everything else.

What may or may not have been a wig in deep black curls hat extended in a halo that felt like lifted for miles vertically around your face. A five inch gap of black which turned into a faux-aged white. Where is this fashion grabbing from?

Priscilla you had chest hair creeping defiantly up your cleavage. I watched a woman poke at your tits with one slender finger in the mirror and saw the lump move to the side, as if parting for something more real.

In a way of sorts you were up against the most gigantic and invisible piece of glass in the world; your whole body stopped abruptly 4 inches away from your face. Your lips stopped in some sudden shudder of red outline in black pressed flat. Your not-breasts stopping slender and square and your beer(vodka?) belly compressed into one thick block of non-care.

You were delightful and nice in your leopard print dress which outlined your non-shaved armpits. You had a tongue red enough to have been lipsticked upon that drew out I can only imagine what. But it was so fake as to be glamorous and spiteful all at once. Like some demon having escaped from hell desperate to win someone over to its side without knowing how. It curved and twirled and was repulsive but interesting.

You and your band of "we just don't know"s sat in the corner drinking whiskey cokes and chatting up the entire bar in a tirade of loud sounds. I didn't listen much.

I sat at the bar and watched in the long mirror admiring all of you. You are all such stories and people and amazement. You are beautiful and terrible all at once and I can't wrap my head around it.

I guess it's a new year. Time for resolutions. I abandoned a long time ago that aspect of jolly drunkenness, but I suppose I do want to at least try to start writing more this year. It isn't so much I lost a lot of feeling. It is all there and on the skin and in it. I just never feel settled. I feel like driving North forever. Until the road stops or until I stop or anything at all stops.

It must end somewhere.