This will not happen often. My sister was just here. . Her and her husband. I kissed him and said, “Thank you for making my sister happy.”

I am drunk.

I miss her more than I have the capacity to say.

And right now, I love you. It does not matter who you are. I love you.

Socrates said something about alcohol and philosphy. About being drunk and the tongue being loosened and about true philosophy.

Tonight, I discovered something.

I love you. And I am drunk. Which gives me the courage to say so.

Everyone on my friends list. I love you all. Tears in my eyes and I miss my sister. And I love you.

I will regret this later. I know that. But right now, my love is more powerful than my regret.

I am dying. And you, too. And love is too important to waste.

You know. You know to whom I am speaking. More than anything else, it is important–as I type with my eyes closed–that you know that I love you.

I am going to bed now. This is my drunk post. I t mus remain here as testamony.

I would do anything for you. Anything. All you need do is ask.

I love you. Good night.