Potion of Resolve The drink tasted oh so sweet, it was almost intoxicating, that taste. The alcohol helped of course. She was on the other side of the room, dazzling and so out of my league. Courage flowed from bottles and glasses, bolstering my resolve. I'll go for it. I'll try. Between her and me was the dance floor, my first trial. I could almost hear my thoughts, but figured they'd be jumbled anyway. Around me people jumped, sang along, headbanged and breakdanced. One fellow played the guitar and the walz was all around me. In a corner a praying mantis played the world's smallest violin and it made me want to cry. Or maybe that was the noise from the karaoke stage. Man, I hate so hate techno. I reach the bar stumbling, picking up a Potion of Resolve. It makes my throat burn and my shoulders to relax. The world gets brighter. The world gets darker. Next, avoiding people mingling, I do it like a man of the world, stepping between them with a glass of champagne, looking every bit like James Bond in my tuxedo. The powerslide gets me through the headbanger's ball. And there she is, gorgeous. Smiling at me, saying something but I can't hear her, not at all. The melody of her voice is divine and I feel so alive, so distant, so among the clouds, in the Heavens. We are carried away on a sea of worshipers, put down gently on a bed of flowers. Around us people are reveling, paying tribute to our love, our oh so beautiful love. It is larger than #life, more than everything. But the sidewalk tastes like dirt and blood. But my pants are wet with urine. But she has thrown up on me, and the doorman tells us to fuck off. But what a party.