trouble in paradise

Maybe it's just a phase.

Slow down, brother. Take a deep breath and repeat after me: "I am an island. I am bloody Ibiza."

I am a bloody island. I am bloody, sodding Ibiza.

You know you're in trouble when you start evoking the closely held mottos of pop novel characters, as if to ward off some sort of curse. And by this measure, I am in serious trouble.

Not in a corporeal or external sense, you understand. Forget the law, credit ratings, my nagging cough, the due dates for various bills, the traffic jam at 3 AM on the Bay Bridge last night, the impromptu dance party it sparked; friendship maintenance, whether or not my Sunday Times is delivered on time or wet; all other facets of boring boring reality; I'm talking about a serious potential for disaster here, wholesale rupturing of longstanding walls, a very dangerous fuzzying of boundaries. Unprecedented, unforeseen (was it really?), and absolutely deadly to the day to day operation of yours so very truly.

No, I'm talking about - to quote, I'm sure, a lyric or title from some random and most disposable pop song - "matters of the heart" , order in the mind, body, soul and all the other commonly recognized divisions of human innerspace. This is deep deep stuff, man! Certainly not to be confused with the sort of minor trauma inflicted by say, teacher intercepted love notes in the eighth grade. Are you kidding me?

I realized something last night...

Come on, man. Pour it out!

Not on your life. My mind is a-whirling from all that convenient (and delicious) beverage and it is early in the morning and melodramatics are very easily achieved when drunk and by your lonesome. No, these matters must be handled delicately and with a grave sense of purpose. There is no need - despite previously stated wishes - to go driving off a cliff.

Things certainly do feel out of proportion. Yes, they do. Things do. And I'm not drunk. Or buzzed. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even drunk last night. And only slightly buzzed. Okay, so it's established that I am, at present, neither drunk or buzzed. I am, however, sitting up in bed by myself. I do not, however, feel particularly upset, though there is this lingering sense of the impossible. (Pause for careful consideration) Hrm. Well, to be perfectly objective, I must conclude that the current circumstances would not, under normal conditions, give rise to unnecessarily intense melodramatics.

(Pause to understand what that might mean.)

Holy sh*t.

Yeah, holy moly, brother. Take a deep breath. Maybe it's just a phase.

Yeah, maybe.