We could be heroes.

After all the shared joy, the jumping and shouting, I must admit that there is not victory for us mortals.
The Gods took the chosen ones to the Olympo, leaving the rest of us in the shore from where we see them celebrating, getting high on success. All we have left is some larger and few ice cubes to get in the whiskey. No furhter glory. Tomorrow morning there will be the hangover of bills to be paid, claiming our responsibility, our waking up from the dream of the winners.
We have lost in the banal attempt to be them. We have pushed our own hope to be represented for purely selfish reasons by some guys they know nothing about us.
But this battle to reach them is lost. Apollo knows. Zeus laughs and comes down to earth to get laid and try to be sympathetic with the feeling of pathetism he struggles to understand.
For all their inmortality, we posses those things they will never have. We posses the uniqueness of the now that might not be so bright or exciting, but nevertheless, it only belongs to those who dare to reach for the unreachable. That might be some kind of special thing to hold on to.
So tonight we have something else. We have an unexplainable growing happiness that accelerates the vertigo characteristic of the previous stage to the fall. We have this "don't care" feeling that makes us live the here like if tomorrow would be an Utopian reality. So we give all we got before the sun rises, for the light will return us to the world of things....and tonight is all about the world of ideas and possibilities.