something lost

The person in the mirror is looking me in the eye and I’m wondering who that person is. Who is staring back at me from beyond that shiny surface on my wall? Will reality again cover this barren land I roam, like the warm blanket of snow that has kept me safe all this time? One, two, three, four— four – I spot four glasses for me to warm my spirit and quench my thirst for unconscious introspection.

One, two, three, four, one by one, down they go.

It will keep this going for a little longer and stimulate the circulation of impulsive ideas from my neurons to yours.

Going back to the beginning, back to when we were mere children basking in the little utopian universe we have created, we fondly remember the rosy and carefree existence that we used to lead. Not a thing was wrong in the WHOOOLE world. It was simple. It was innocent. It was the Garden of Eden before god spoiled it with his little clay toys.

But even fruit in the Garden of Eden don’t last forever. Eventually, drunk on their own happiness, they drown in their blissful glass of wine, floating to the surface, motionless, plucked from their green stems, gently begging for help in ripples that dissipate as they grow bigger and farther away.

But not even the looming foreshadowing in a glass of wine could stop a wandering mind from wandering through the corridors of imagination. And wandering it did...

Traversing vast and varied terrain, it attempted to explore as far and as much as it could. From the old and classic reflections of a dry vodka martini, to the new and exciting aromas of a Red White and Hpnotiq Blue.

As time went by and experiences accumulated, an unconscious race to the next exciting thing began to burn in the inner-most furnaces of our restless wandering mind. Little by little, it discovered that a sparkly crystal glass at a nicely set table just didn’t cut it anymore. It needed more. It was hungry.

Candle-lit tables lined with empty glasses ready to be filled with such delicacies as anticipation, yearning, excitement and delight were, by now, very apropos.

Of course, the humble dry martini of yesteryear always had its honourable place on one of these tables. It became a signature, a custom almost, something that is an essential part of the experience. You arrive, you take your seats, you order a glass, as simple as that.

But like all good meals it must all eventually come to an end. Well, perhaps not really an end, but more like desert. And what better drink to serve for desert than a warm and encouraging glass of Blueberry Tea. We of course start with the 'little-bitter' amaretto to set the mood. The initial sting is then softened by the sweet but nevertheless potent Grand Marnier. Finally, to warm up our spirits and reassure us we mix it all in a nice glass of steaming hot tea.

More changes ahead, but that's for the entry.

There.

Isn’t that better?