"You know.. at that party... I was in my bedroom alone with G..."

"I know. When you walked me out, you told me: 'he came out of the bathroom and he smelled sooo good'. You were so far gone. You were funny."

Damn. I need to be more careful. Good thing that was only Miss S.

Tonight was good. We stopped by, had a couple, and then continued on our way home from downtowon on the LC. Can't be letting him think that he's everything and the only thing on my mind. Even though he is. Everyone wanted to see her tattoo and my piercing.

We were on the skytrain earlier. It was so crisp. Every detail. The electric hum, the silent staring ahead faces, the colours matching just so. The escalator in the station, creeping up to the city streets above. There was a loose screw on the floor near the door. Where from? What was it holding together. Just like the men in the suits on the seawall, we created a story for this aimless screw.

I walked home from the LC stop. The buzz was, and is, still good. The orange leaves blended with the amber street lights. My eyes blurred the colours together. I was laughing out loud. My arms are stretched out and I'm flying. It's all orange. It's a cheap colour, I know, but it's also a happy colour.

My happiness is not cheap and artificial. It's real.