A prelude to a man drunk on thoughts at 2 A.M. 

Sometimes it feels like the mind is an underground hot air balloon, and at night we finally have the time to get it out and fly above the city.  Eventually the city below is a few specks of light, the sky above a host of shining stars.  Drifting in the silent darkness between the two, we look back and forth in our thoughts between humanity and the heavens . . .  

Everyone speaks a language which only they can understand; a romance is finding someone else who speaks the exact same language.

How sad it is to feel as though you speak a language that no one else speaks.

Every now and again, it is a good thing to be sad.

Sooner or later you realize, this is the body I'm stuck with.  Somedays it feels surprising we didn't wake up with a whole new one.

Sometimes it does feel like you would rather kill yourself than not be valued by those you really care about.

Life is made up of the people you are around.  You pursue certain relationships, you pursue a certain life.  You'll look back, and the conversations you had with those people will be the life that you lived.

Is anyone really there for your life?  Like a person who watches a sleeping body, our friends no more know our lives than creatures from other universes know about the earth.  It is a lost planet, hidden silently in the shadows of the milky way, one of the hundreds of billions of galaxies.  It is a very hard thing to know another person.

Eternity has nothing to do with time; it has everything to do with depth of life.

Then it comes time to land the hot air balloon, for the new day starts quite early.  But it is always fun to be around people the next day and think, 'And they have no idea that just last night I was taking a midnight ride in a hot air balloon . . .' 

A bit ago my friend Chris was talking to me when from the other room Cory suddenly asked Chris in a confused tone, "Who are you talking to?"  Cory was lying on the couch around the corner, and thus had no idea I was there.  "Oh I'm talking to Phil," Chris responded.  "He's here. He's at the table. Yeah, I'm not crazy, talking to an empty room."

At this last comment I quickly sat up straight.

Rewind back to a few days ago.  I'm walking up to the house, just returning from class.  For some reason, I expect Chris to be sitting in the living room as I walk in the door.  What would I say to him?  I ensue to imagine the following dialogue occurring once inside the door.

"Chris!" I boom in an ebullient tone, "A wonderful afternoon to you, my friend!  You know, I am just so happy you are here.  You make the world such a better place.  I would be crazy without you."
"Um, why would you be crazy without me?" Chris asks skeptically.
"Well, just think about it," I reply, "if you weren't here, I'd be speaking to a completely empty room.  That whole intro would have been directed at no one.  And that would have been quite crazy of me to say all that to no one in particular.  The fact that you are here has saved my sanity.  And for that I thank you."

(Chris would also then say, 'I'm not quite sure my presence has done the trick.')

Chris, however, was not in the living room, and the dialogue never happened. 

Thus as Chris said "Yeah, I'm not crazy, talking to an empty room" my mind launched into a super-intensive state of realization.  A fictional reality I had dreamed up had become real in reverse.  I had hoped to appeal to Chris's presence to justify my sanity, but instead Chris used mine to justify his. 

Thus, while neither Chris nor I are crazy, it has been confirmed that the world we live in definitely is. 

Somewhere once upon a time a man was born, though he wasn't a man yet.  But then he grew up and became a man and did lots of things and then he went to a restaurant diner/travel station somewhere in Pennsylvania.  In that diner he went to the bathroom, and upon entering he heard me say to my friend Brian, "Green dress pants?  You can't have green dress pants. Only Mr. Green from Clue can wear green dress pants," and then after that Brian and I were out of the bathroom.

And that is the only line I will ever deliver in the play of that man's life.

He had been existing in his own world, living his own experiences, making his own choices, for years and years, totally oblivious of my existence.  And then just like that, he entered stage left into the restroom and brushed by me, hearing me say something of green dress pants. 

Who knows what future wardrobe decisions I may have affected?  Perhaps that man ran an entire line of dress clothing for men, and had been wondering how to expand his inventory.  Or maybe he was feeling down, but long ago in his life he used to play a lot of clue and he was always Mr. Green and he always won.  Or just maybe he had been taking a lot of flak from his boss, who wore green dress pants to work daily, and the comment emboldened him. 

It's simply odd that he had been living all of life from his perspective, waking up to his struggles, lying down at night reflecting on his days, for so long, and finally we had brushed by one another.  The world is one giant playing field of agents set into motion from their births who suddenly become deep friends or lovers with one another, or perhaps just brush by one another in a bathroom or stand next to each other at a bus stop.

The only thing really preventing us from all getting together is the amount of people there are.  But I always dream that one day all of humanity will get together and do the electric slide. 

Until that day though, we'll just have to be lovers and forgivers of the people that make up the cast of our life.

The problem with the border is that New Mexico sounds like a great place to go for a person who lives in plain ole' Mexico.  They should rename it something like 'Border Patrol Land' or 'Get Caught' or 'Die.'  Then they would say, 'Get your things, we're going to Get Caught! Hmmm . . . actually, on second thought, let's just stay here.'

The key to victory in any war against China will be the capture of General Tso.

I imagine binary scrabble would be quite boring.

I want to make a restaurant where the menu has items on it named "We need a few more minutes" "What do you suggest?" and "I have no idea."

Women must have been very frustrating to hang out with before digital cameras, since in those days 'Oh this is so cute, let's get a picture!' would have required us to pose for several hours.

It would be so cool to have a pillowcase with a picture of the world on it so that when I go to sleep at night I would be like a meteor crashing into it.

Love to you all!  Do have a cheerful evening!