After two glasses of the good stuff comes an interesting state of being, at least for me. I am not drunk, just fuzzy. The details become unimportant. That your conversation leaves me untouched, unmotivated, becomes a minor point. What matters is the softness of the music, the ambiance from the candlelight. The desire to make an effort to respond to your inane conversation diminishes.. you dont care anyway about what I have to say. I am listening in.. injecting the necessary "ahs" along, the right smiles, the right arching of the brow, and sighing to myself.. the burdens of sociability! How purposeless is it all!
No, dont be offended please. i.e assuming I have the capacity to offend you at all. I look into your eyes to connect with you, but cannot hold your gaze. You seem to slip away, every time. I wonder whats going on. Words pour forth around me, and I feel more and more isolated amidst you. Who are you people? What are you people? I screw up my eyebrows to focus my attention. Our frequencies are way out of whack.. and yet, here I am, in your drawing room, pretending. Its like my UG lecture classes. I feel like I am almost there, but I am still not able to follow you at all! I am filled with a disgruntling sense of déjà vu! Dont you ever grow tired of these simplistic lines, that provoke neither head nor heart? "Are you feeling quiet well, my dear?", you ask. Oh, did I miss a cue there? Sorry, I must have drifted off.. Sorry! Maybe I am more drunk than I thought.
You smile at our other friend. Suddenly, I envy you your camaraderie. I can see you guys have me figured out in your minds. As a snob? As a freak? The wine has mellowed me. OK, so what? I am not mad at you. The wine tastes bitter sweet. You, your clichéd points of view, your un-straightforwardness and your twisted punch lines.. you come billowing at me, out of all proportions. What would otherwise madden or even hurt, now smother me, makes me sleepy and bored. Does it even matter?