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- My cat. My big, fat, lazy-ass, cute-as-a-motherfuckin'-button cat.
- That feeling when I'm on stage, in front of a crowded auditorium, acting to my heart's content, and hopefully creating a moment for everybody there.
- A freshly bought DVD.
- David Bowie.
- The (rare) embrace of a loving companion.
- Finishing a good, long book.
- Meeting a fellow freethinker.
- Back to the cat, when I press my ear against her tummy and hear her breathing and her insides making their various little sounds.
- Watching a truly great actor getting the job done (Daniel Day-Lewis brings a tear to my eye).
- Sitting alone in a movie theatre, watching a film all to myself (Bella comes to mind).
- Finishing a piece of writing (if you're reading this, go read Venereal Curse over in the Lit forum, I have to finish that freaking thing).
- Driving at night on a barren road.
- Walking in downtown Charleston, hanging with friends and stopping by Theatrics Unlimited.
- Compliments.
- Classical compositions (Mozart, Clint Mansell, Philip Glass, etc..)
- My cat, again. What with her little paws stretching out as she wakes up from her 18+ hour slumber.
Overall, I'm a pretty happy guy.
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It's a rare pleasure in this world to get your mind fucked. Usually it's just foreplay.
M.B. Keene
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