My pupils are gradually hazing over as the merlot and my flowing blood combine to make a reaction of numbness over my entire body. Is it possible to write in front of 6 other people? Not in front, in presence of, or with; our thoughts cross across the room, creating a linear picture directly in the middle. Lines of different color, different concentration and different consistency. What would they combine to be, if it were possible to mix together? It would combust into a picture of random life, distinctive scenes, scents and feelings. Pressure is apparent as you stand before me, your glass at hand. Your eyes glazed over, you speak at a faster pace. We cheers, “It’s crisp,” he says. “I like thicker.” I’ll admit, I’ve been spoiling myself. Past similarities are spoken of and the pierce stare is felt upon my face. Although, I look back and it seems so unclear... I’ve been digging around and I have seemed to have lost it.