Something or Another

A product of Wednesday. When I felt, and acted, like an alcoholic. Take it as you will:

She hadn't done it in a while. It felt good, revisiting those avenues. Being a part of what many had been a part of before. Knowing she wasn't special and not giving a shit. Do you know how good that felt? Imagine how it would feel to bathe in a rainbow, eat a butterfly's very essence and laugh about it with unicorns. That's how her body reacted to it. One moment her life was her grandmother's wooden floor, and before her body could understand the very notion of change, her entire existence was technicolour. Each corner of her kaleidoscope an entity she could never converse with. Intangible, was the word. She sat there with every imaginable sensation taking over her being. She stood up and tasted every star in the heavens. She hadn't done this in a while. Felt she may have lost her talent for it. But there she was. Living in fragmented wholes. Wasn't that something? Giving your everything to what you essentially understood to be nothing. She felt courageous, more than anything. Who else could say that they had tripped on uncertainty, fallen face first into oblivion and still soldiered on? Only to stumble onto...euphoria. She laughed at this rhetoric. Laughed at this situation -a circumstance, if you will. She had walked into fallacy with eyes wide open. How else was she supposed to enjoy the scenery? This was the greatest trick her brain had ever played on her mind, he'd told her once. She couldn't care less. She cared even less every time she downed that bottle with a box of cigarettes and pasted ink to paper. Doing it was bliss.