I love finding the moments of poetry in life. I don’t mean that in an artsy way – the wind in the trees blowing a plastic bag down the street might be the most beautiful thing Ricky Fitts ever saw, but you have to have your eyes open to those things. I mean the moments of symmetry that couldn’t have been better were they written in a poem, a song, or a story.

Tomorrow night I’m going to a party in a house out of town. There’s going to be booze, bands, brilliance, and undoubtedly a whole lot more. I’ve never been to this house before. I don’t know who lives there. All I know about the host is his name:
J Gatsby. 

The night is full of promise and potential. There’s a gleam and a glamour in the air that makes me so excited I don’t know how to phrase it. I want to drink, take drugs, and dance all night. I want to be reckless and fall in love and wake up in the morning wondering why I acted like such a fool, but not regret a moment of it. I want it all to be as beautiful as I want it to be, or at least seem that way. I feel like this is something I’ve been waiting for.

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