A friend kindly left some comments on my work, which I found somewhat encouraging. So, shamelessly put it here, and see if I could get more comments to help me to do better with this. Thank you!
After Getting Drunk
It was my first time that I truly got drunk. The dizziness, the detachment of the body and soul, the intoxication, the half-wakeness-and-half-sleepiness, all of them, make me creative somehow.
I saw I was in the movie titled 2046, but physically I was sitting on the sofa in reality. To make it more accurate, I was half lying down. I watched I loved someone else, but he loved some other girl. I was sobbing for the lose of the love in the corner in one room, while he enjoyed wine with another, dancing and singing in the next room. I saw calmly that love was being broken between others, but forgot that I was watched by others to clean the dismantled heart on the floor, among the broken wine glasses, the crumbled napkins, scattered lipsticks, and ugly faces.
The tickling of the high-heeled shoes in the deserted street, the clicking of the finger on the wine glasses, the charming song notes, all, were dribbling, tuned to the rhythm of night. One, two, three, tee taa taa taa.., la..la..la..., la..la...la.. lalalaaa... la... la..la...la.......la.la.la
The night broke into pieces, falling into my dreams, where it got wet in red wine. The wet memories tucked themselves, defending fiercely against every poking eyes. Stab, stab, bloods all over, and the whole load of weariness melted into the dust, disappearing.
I want another bottle of wine to get closer to the dream, to detach farer from reality, to sail into the land of my own...
One more drop, one more...echoed the drunken squeezed eyes that fastened themselves at a point far far far away in the mirror.
After Getting Drunk
It was my first time that I truly got drunk. The dizziness, the detachment of the body and soul, the intoxication, the half-wakeness-and-half-sleepiness, all of them, make me creative somehow.
I saw I was in the movie titled 2046, but physically I was sitting on the sofa in reality. To make it more accurate, I was half lying down. I watched I loved someone else, but he loved some other girl. I was sobbing for the lose of the love in the corner in one room, while he enjoyed wine with another, dancing and singing in the next room. I saw calmly that love was being broken between others, but forgot that I was watched by others to clean the dismantled heart on the floor, among the broken wine glasses, the crumbled napkins, scattered lipsticks, and ugly faces.
The tickling of the high-heeled shoes in the deserted street, the clicking of the finger on the wine glasses, the charming song notes, all, were dribbling, tuned to the rhythm of night. One, two, three, tee taa taa taa.., la..la..la..., la..la...la.. lalalaaa... la... la..la...la.......la.la.la
The night broke into pieces, falling into my dreams, where it got wet in red wine. The wet memories tucked themselves, defending fiercely against every poking eyes. Stab, stab, bloods all over, and the whole load of weariness melted into the dust, disappearing.
I want another bottle of wine to get closer to the dream, to detach farer from reality, to sail into the land of my own...
One more drop, one more...echoed the drunken squeezed eyes that fastened themselves at a point far far far away in the mirror.
