It was a cold welcome and I didn’t stay long. At least someone had enough decency to at least pretend to be glad to see me even if it was just to mooch a high. It was a ghetto ride, seat belts were all for show. Of course this was something unknown to me and yet to be realized for quite some time.

We called up an old friend. Shortly thereafter I found myself in an airstream staring down the carb of a gas mask bong. My past experience with cs gas and my lack thereof with pipes lead to a rather eventful evening. My skin was candle wax melting over itself.

I was a god, and he was an urethra, yet no one even knew. Paranoia and tits, a lack of control, and markers that stole part of my soul as they fell from my hand to the ground. My mind had been blown and yet it meant nothing at all.