We’ve all had those moments.  The really good ones—sometimes they involve intoxicants, sometimes not.  They come on randomly, with some personal effort but mostly a lot of luck and other people.  You feel like they could go on forever even though you know they’re extremely temporary. You’re driving in the car, and the night envelops the open road.  You speed, but it’s not dangerous.  The radio blasts your favorite song.  Someone, maybe your best friend, laughs to your right.  Everything is so beautiful.

How do you make more of these moments?  The freedom, the potential, the power.  You swear you’ll remember the feeling, duplicate it again and again… but tomorrow, you won’t.  Tomorrow, you’ll go back to your comfortable monotony.

Tomorrow, you might sink into self-pity and depression.  Tomorrow, you’ll probably reconsider all the recklessness.  Cross it off your list and swear you’ll never do it again.  Except it happens again.

How did it happen again?

And why is it so amazing?

What did you do to make this wondrous moment real? The air is cold, your skin is warm, and the hot single to your left is eyeing you encouragingly.  Words flow out and they work.  The hot single laughs, and you can tell they mean it.  They are as intoxicated by you as you are by them.

And then it’s gone.  What was it that was so different?

What was it that was so joyous, so momentarily infinite?