sometimes we're so awake

when you stay out too late on a friday, you are reminded of many things, among them that it is late, now early. but what you lose in terms of sleep is gained back hand over fist, through good friends, music, honest talk about the necessary difficulty of making your place in this world, and just a little bit of bacon.

susan, impossibly, got just a little bit older last night, and we’re lucky to have been there. later, you realize the only purpose diners ever had, and you silently thank the minds that contrived to create a 24-hour place to think through things with friends.

and night into morning lets the sun become noticed not as something that makes you squint, but as a light that sets subway cars and warehouse walls ablaze.

you walk toward all this, and when you can’t wait to get home to write about it, you know it’s all been real. every last bit of it.