October 29th, 2006

(no subject)

The Elevator.

There's nothing in the world better than the feeling of being around your friends; your true friends. Over the course of time, I've come to realize that the times when I find myself the most overwhelmed with contentment and happiness untainted by anything in the world, are the times when I'm having fun with my friends. Whoever these friends may be at any given moment and wherever they may reside does not matter. What matters is the fact that regardless of anything, they are mine, and I am theirs, and they inspire me to admit at my every chance that my life is absolutely incredible with them in it.

And last night they resided in an elevator that traveled up into the sky and down into the depths of unfinished floors of the Fillmore T3 tower a seemingly endless amount of times. Up or down, it didn't matter. We packed ourselves inside, sitting on the marble floor of the giant elevator, cramming eight or nine people inside and looking up at the mirrored ceiling that reflected the joy in all of us. Adventure mode had been a near let-down that night, having traveled to opposite sides of the city and back again in search of this feeling, only to find ourselves in a slew of awkward scenarios with awkward people in awkward places. To know that it had been found here, in this very elevator with these very people, only made the discovery of that night’s element that much more rewarding to be a part of. Through fallen beer pong tables, deserted passengers, cocky and narcissistic goblin kings, Cookie Monster disappearing in a cloud of fog, a Black Widow on the wall, phone calls five minutes too late, and a kiss on the hand from a vampire I'd been waiting to meet, we found ourselves in this elevator, content at last. We laughed our faces off over six packs of cheap cola and a Ocean Spray bottle filled with rum I'd stolen from a drag queen at the first bust party of the night. We sat in our cell enjoying every moment that a floor button was pushed at random and the elevator would take us there, only to watch the door open and close again.

We eventually herded ourselves from the elevator at the moment we decided we had enough courage to dare the second floor, and explored the unfinished quarters of the tower that made a series of small rooms of cement walls and wires and pipes cluttering the ceiling. There on the second floor, we found ourselves commencing the fifth party of the evening, as we sat in groups on the cement floor, smoking cigarettes inside and roller-skating around to the tune of free pizza. With Snow White by my side and an emo interest to rest my bare legs on over the cold cement floor, we took over the sixth floor with our contagious excitement. From there we made art with soda cans and watched sidewalk performances before our very eyes, kicked an apple down two blocks and into a downhill goal, raced a taxi cab and won, and made out with satisfied adventurers in the middle of the street. And as I tried to close my eyes and call it a night, I couldn't help but smile so wide that it kept me awake, and I couldn't help but feel inspired to admit to myself just one more time before the night ended, that my life was absolutely incredible with these people in it.