the state of insomnolence resurrects once in a while.  after a few hours of diluting the system with colombian alcohol, the rest of the body creates mutiny against the brain.  the system disengages its urge to believe that the only constant is change.  the adult house party that we went to left my lady hammered under the sheets while my nocturnal code inadvertently exhumed itself six feet under the depths of astral slumber.  the flashes of the past suddenly ignite me with great fervor.  i deliberately play ambient bt tracks, then my train of thought brings me back the soleful right to my currently restrained legends of youthful frolic.  a forgotten mnemonic that burst like fire in the sky, i sit and relax while the adrenaline rush stupendously fills me in. 

a sporadic reel manifests itself like an animatrix main menu.

a segment of myself dancing in a club, smoke rises from nowhere, the mesmerizing strobe and laser lights reveal themselves from the thickness of the fog.  the main room of ten15 is heated up with a bunch of heads lightly swaying to the magnified beats of the dj.  their squint-eyed nonchalance unmasks that they’re under the influence of either booze or recreational substances.  i hear the speakers intermittently play with my ears, shifting from left to right, muffled to full blast, and isolation to surround.  both humidity and temperature are rising, and i drench myself among the howls and rhythm of that night.

the fast-moving reel stops.

coming from sacramento along highway 80, and it’s still 6ish in the morning.  the sun is still rising. i notice its fresh wake from the eastern hemisphere, dramatically spreading light and a sign of optimism throughout the hills.  the once gloomy mountainside’s color changes from a dark-blue silhouette to golden-brown, and i enjoyed the transition.  i dodge interstate trucks with zeal, playing and slowly trashing the gears that jump from 70 to 100 mph in 5 seconds.   every open opportunity to get back to the city is taken on this daybreak freeway.  i pass by the exits in davis and remember a few good friends whom i visit either for drinks, parties, or just plain chillin.  my eyes focus back on the road. 

reel.

the departing commercial airplanes hover over the san bruno mountains, deafening a few good acres of the neighborhood.  i am sitting on a friend’s land rover along with his good old buddies, creating a full house with the ride in full effect.  ludacris is playing in the background as smoke fills inside the entire all-terrain vehicle.  we decided to go out of the house after the tube hit us with sheer boredom.  through the smoke i see this orange firefly somewhat struggling for fresh air.  it passes by each of the people inside followed by laughter and course remarks and smack.  someone wants to leave for a house party so the firefly starts flowing around faster, with the same consequence also occuring in a hasty fashion.  the meager light, which suddenly reveals its straight body slowly disappearing, makes its way to me as i respectfully gave a sign of decline.  i was there to chill as the days of cannabis are over.  second-hand smoke again fills the hotbox.

reel stops.  my mind stops involuntarily.  with superbowl just right around the corner, or a few hours away, this may just be the end of my nocturnal scribblings.  i give credit to qimberlee for the prior rhetoric cliche and literary genius.

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