the drunk tank

my friend called me earlier this evening...he was in the czech republic drunk as a skunk...he kept asking me what my favourite christmas song was...i told him, 'fairytale of new york' and he sung it line by line, louder and louder...he said he met some slavs that asked him why his head was so big...he met some people that hated americans, so he pulled down his pants and yelled, "get me a cheese sandwich"...last week he was in thailand singing 'fairytale of new york' a capella in a karaoke bar...he had the old irish ex-pats in tears...after his performance was complete he bought them irish whiskey which they wouldn't drink..."fuck you," he exclaimed, "you better take that 'o' off the front of your surname!"...they responded by telling him he was a lithuanian bastard...ahh yes, the spirit of christmas alive and well on the other-side of the world...after i hung up the phone i took a walk and thought about him a little more...i thought about the past...i thought about my present existence...i thought about the future...and it broke me for a moment...the hollow life, the populated streets, the desire to be joyful, the desire to be loved...and i thought without desire, without sadness, without love, this place would be even darker...i said to myself, "goddamn, love is a fucking wonderful thing"...the polite tones of the evening were creeping up on me, whispering in my ears...telling me to carry on regardless of the infinite loneliness, regardless of not knowing why...