My Girl In The River

Had some good alcohols this weekend. Plenty of refreshing pilsner and a tip here and there of medicinal liquor. Got into a groove and found a higher plain. Relaxed and social, I discovered a communication level that had eluded me and found myself connecting to the soul of this place and the people around me, but in particular had some good texts with the big fella back home. It's not that booze can solve all of life's problems, but a few well placed libations can certainly put a thing or two in perspective.

Here's what I'm talking about. I'd been struggling of late, not entirely satisfied with my purpose in life. The movie business seemed to be a false prophet. Somehow, buried within my half drunk ramblings on this or that, I found my place as a story teller - not to others, but myself. Not the center of attention, but as observer and participant. Good inner dialogue is what I'm talking about. I found a little of my voice, albeit a sometimes angry one. I found that stories are important. They mean something. Stories strongly suggest that the teller has "lived", which in the simplest terms I can fathom, is what life is about.