There are those days, those moments in life, when for no particular reason the senses are heightened and the commonplace becomes sublime. It was one of those days for me. You want to shout ‘Boyohboyohboyohboy!’, do a little jig, kiss a stranger and say wondrous things about making out with a stripper.
Ever sipped on a cocktail that emitted the scent of a an ex lover? It is a silkily seductive idea – a marriage between loss, lust and wickedness.
Much like a good perfume, the experience has different levels – an initial bouquet of familiarity, that soon drifts to a deeper intimate knowledge (albeit still new fresh, and dirty like any new relationship), then to the deep fragrant sandalwood like base of the matter ( mycologically deep and loamy and generous).
Then you find yourself fumbling through the emotions, marveling at thoughts that before had never merited a second look. And you are awed for a moment by just how tremendously, how incredibly, how child-frighteningly ugly they are.
Moments are our mentors!
