Does the fate of man lie.. God dammit! Fuck did I just get bit by a fucking mosquito?!? There’s fucking snow on the fucking ground what the fuck. O’ shit, never mind, it was just fucking ash off my cig. Ok good, that freaked me out for a sec. Anyway. Does the fate of man lie in the resonance of symphonic joy or is he or she doomed to echo in a universe that just doesn’t give a fuck. O’ fuck! I’m thinking out loud again. Fuck I still am. Chancey just shook his head and did his quiet little chuckle like he always did. God I love that dude. Keep going man, he says to me. We were stoned, and I guess he thought what I was sayin trippy, but mostly it was just because he accepted me all in all. Chancey knew I didn’t have long left. I didn’t even have to tell him. He just knew shit like that about me. Knew stuff sometimes that I didn’t even catch on to till much later. But ok. Here I go bud, I says. I really hope the truth lies in the former of the two. I want a symphony, not an echo ya know. The former, then again, always seems to be better than the latter when it comes to me. But better doesn’t necessarily mean truer, unfortunately and that’s the scary part. Fucking terrifying if you think about it. I mean the simple fact that infinity is a thing and we might as well not even be a part of it for all it cares. It’s just a fucking direction right? What the fuck does it care for a backwater toilet planet like Earth, let alone the little bugs who reside on it... who think themselves so big. I don’t know man, what do you think, I asks him. He just shook his head and chuckled. I knew what he meant though. Want to go get a polar pop, he asks me. Fuck ya man, I says. You good to drive, he asks, because there is no way I could even think of driving right now. Ya man I think I can I says to him. Dude your eyes are looking two fucking different ways, he says. Well fuck, I says. God dammit just give me the keys, you can barely drive fucking sober, he says sternly. Ya, you got a point fucking there, I says, with my ole half cocked smile. You drive, I says to him in a funny tone of voice. God fucking dammit, he says, with a loving resentment in his voice floating on yonder. God I love that dude.
My game is going strong to say the least. It’s a gorgeous Thursday night. The air is cool. The breeze crisp. My heart pitter pattered to the coming evening. I was to host yet another fucking marg night with the gals (Kristol and Olivia) and JoJo plus some of his buds. After the initial festivities at our place, I could only assume we would then go up and have casual drinks, aka mind probe pitchers at 45. I fucking hate that bar by the way, but the chicks love it for some goddamn reason, so we went. It was going great for the most part though. We danced. We drank. I looked at them. They looked at me. They were beautiful the gals were, and for a moment I felt so too. Little to say I thought I was on the up and fucking up. Little did I know. O’ little did I fucking know. That just wasn’t the case. Don’t get me wrong, the night ended great. I didn’t black out and even woke up on the futon for a change of pace. But despite my success, calamity still hung on the horizon. See, the next night I make them dinner and then go dancing with them. Nice. Classy. I’m going strong still… at least I was till... I shit my fucking pants.
Ya see I arrived home after finishing up a well cooked cajun dinner and, right before what was to be a fun and eventful night, I was shook from nowhere by the thunders of fate that moved about me. There, as I looked around my dog house of a palace... it struck me with a fury only the gods do know. My whole body yearned for the purging. I began to sprint to the only toilet in reach. JoJo looked at me with utter confusion as I swiftly made my way to bathroom in one final flee. As I reached the door, putting hand to knob in chaos, I realized it was too late. The cajun had come with vengeance and force as the shit spewed down my legs. I dove into the bathroom as if a grenade had erupted behind me and thrown me in, but the grenade wasn’t behind me. It was in my butthole and ow how it burned. Was this the fate for Kristol and Olivia I’ll never know, but I hope my cooking wasn’t the cause of it. I just hope my nice gesture didn’t result in nothing but the bile acts of domestic terrorism upon us all. So, as I quickly cleaned myself up JoJo busts through the door. Are you ok fucker, he asks, before instantaneously throwing up in the toilet at the sight and smell of the shit I was still covered in. JoJo looked at me and then looked at the toilet covered in shit and threw up. Then he looked at me again for a while. Just… Just… Clean this shit, he gagged again. Just clean this up please, he says to me in a whimper. We never talked about that day again. Never. JoJo never quite seemed the same after it. Neither of us were. It was war we saw that day and war changes men. Shit and vomit now bonded us in silence as we did our best to carry on with our lives never forgetting what we saw, but never mentioning it outside a distant glance from time to time. We were different men now and forever. Lost to the forces of human fluids. But that’s enough of that.
The next day I was having the chillest smoke and drinkfest since I decided to stop my treatment last month, I was more than ready to put my party cap back on with no inherent risk to my knowledge now. Don’t get me wrong, I was still partying the whole time, but with a certain air of caution about it. But now, in the immortal words of one JR Dustbucket, I’m golden... or I was, till I started to puke in the alley back behind the bar. Don’t worry, I was just performing the all worthwhile BOOT AND MOTHERFUCKING RALLY. Did you just quote Zac Effron you fuck, Clefus asks me in the most demeaning of fashions. Shut up Clefus, you puked in my car last night and then all over my living room to boot after I fucking sat with you for 30 mins waiting for Chancey to pick your drunk ass up, I says to him with a vengeance. Haha touche my good sir, he says to me in contentment. That’s what I fucking thought you douche, I return forthrightly. Touche fucking touche, he repeats to me in a stoned raspy way. Anyway, back to my story, so I was in the alley after I puked my guts up. Would you just shut the fuck up, Clefus says to me like the utter jackass he is. We get it, you puked and then blacked out as per usual, he says, waving his hand in my direction as faint act of dismissal. What the fuck Clefus, I says to him. I’m just saying man, it’s like you’re telling the same fucking story over and over. Drink then blackout. Drink then blackout. Get some new material you fuck. Well… Well… I says. I guess he had a point. New story I guess. Thank Fucking God, Clefus bellows. Thank Fucking God, he says again for dramatic effect. Fine. Fine I says. How bout a flashback for the kids at home. Whatever works for you bud, would you just stop bowl tending and hand me that motherfucker, he says, reaching out for slowing burning herb. Sure, I says. Sure.
Ok so, let’s go back a couple of years. It was freshmen year and youth was abound upon all who had just made our way to this heathen city. There I was, a young stallion on the march partying like I’m an alcoholic set loose in a fucking sea of liquor and drunken new faces. I dance like I’m dying with Franky and Denise. We had just met. Well that’s not entirely true. Actually, the first time I saw Franky’s beautiful self, she was getting down and dancing with my buddy Cash Money at the Woods earlier that week before we met. Little did I know when I yelled tap dat ass Cash I was unknowingly referring to one of the most lovely souls God ever painted. She was lovely. God damn was she lovely like jazz and a cigarette. But that was a couple days ago and now we were thick as thieves. So, as we danced our sweaty fucking asses off we smiled in our drunken joy begot of vodka and lasting memories to come. Then bam I wake up. I didn’t black out this time to some surprise… well I did, buts that neither here nor there. Anyway the night was over as quick as it had began. Gone in a flash. One second were having the time of our lives, thinking that it was going to be this way forever, and then bam it was over. From stumbling tangos to my nude ass awoken in a room not of my own. Innocence lost to my own drunken ways.
As I awoken naked, laying next to a girl I had never met, I said a sweet goodbye to a virginity I once cherished and got my shit and ran the fuck out of there. No way in hell was I having anything fucking close to a one night stand morning after type of conversation. Where were Franky and Denise. Who the fuck was this???? I was alone with all these confused feelings I was having as I took that constricting condom off my dick and threw it at the wall. I guess the prior night was too much fun for an adolescent boy to handle, and it was becoming all too apparent to me, in this moment, that boy overnight had become a man. I had lost my virginity to a girl whose name I didn’t even know or remember meeting. My special little gift given away in a one night stand.
The guys in the frat, which I had to meet a moment later, got a kick out of it. Good ole me got raped for his first time is what they would say, but it was only a jest in place of a very own and personally awkward emotional situation. Well oddly enough it turns out we, meaning me and the mystery girl, were fated to meet again and the paramount of it all, the real fucking crescendo was… herpes… Just kidding. HA. I actually thought I had chlamydia though. Don’t worry I didn’t. They ran every test in the book on me, but no cigar. Well it sure as hell didn’t stop them from putting me on every STD med from here to fucking Bangkok. One of which made all the bacteria in my stomach fucking die and turn my shit into fucking molten chili fries slothered in green ketchup. Fuck, my butthole and me are never on the best of terms. Hey, but no tingle in the sack for burning sphincter hole seems like a fair trade to me. White doctors. Never fully trust em I tells you.
So that brings me and, well us, to the present moment. Now more precisely. I had just now gotten stoned with Dick Fealey and BARSTOOL and off we went to the birthday party of Brother Ethan’s at a little indian restaurant in Ox called Krishna. O’ Krishna you playful god you, how you berate my butthole with joy unknown to the ides of men. O’ the shits you would produce in a laugh. Man did that place bring the spiritual proportions of the Bhagavad Gita to a man’s bowels, but maybe if I got it mild enough I could bypass some of that. O’ God I’m stoned. O’ Lord this can’t end well. Sorry Ethan, but we just might fucking ruin this birthday night of yours.
Here’s a little about Ethan. The dude really did love me as a brother. We may not share the same genes, but god damn how fortunate was I to have such a brother as Ethan. He saw the best in me. He wanted me to believe in myself like he believed in me. How lucky was I to have a friend such as him. He was my first true friend I made in college. One of the closest I’ll ever have because he had more hope in me than I could ever have in myself. I loved him for that and he loved me for reasons I still quite haven’t figured out. Our friendship is a lovely thing because he taught me that I could be more. More than just some person. More than my scars and more than that shiny bald ass head of mine. More than my own doubtful self. I was to be more, and he saw what that was. He aided me and believed in me. He held my hand whether I was puking from the treatment or slashing at my body. And for that I was eternally grateful. That he was my friend and proud to be so. My friend Ethan. My brother. My friend. A friend, a brother… unto me until the end.
I’ve distance myself from him though these past few months. Seeing each other from time to time like weeks had only been days. I just can’t… I just hope he knows. I just hope he knows how much I care about him. But it was his big day so I didn’t want to ruin it with getting all sentimental on him. It was a great time. We were stoned. The food was dope. Did I yell some obscenities like fucking her in the butt while surrounded by families and children… well, maybe, is the best way I can put that. Hell, even though the whole restaurant fell silent to my dismay the elderly couple in the corner got a kick out of it, so I didn’t feel like a complete twat. Unfortunately the family next to our party table hated me for it. It didn’t help that they were getting out of there car at the same time we were around the corner from this lovely establishment. See as I got out I bumped my head yelled a traditionally expected FUCKKKKK and proceeded to move on. Little did I know they were standing right in front of me with their seven and four year old children, but hell it was Oxford and we were uptown. Not the most ideal place to bring your kids at night because this place resembled a drunken drugged out roman orgy more than a quaint little town during the school year.
They should have fucking known better in the first place what they were getting themselves into. Fucking parents. In all seriousness though it was my bad and I apologized. Actually no I fucking didn’t. Fuck that!!!! There’s no regrets for the dying. Not unless you’re a fan of ever longing depression for things you could never change. Things happen and there’s no taking them back. As a brilliant soul once said, Forgiveness is giving up hope of ever getting a better past. And I was in need of a lot of forgiveness if that is the case.
Fuck I never told you about my poetry. Never mind I didn’t know where I was going with that one… O’ wait I remember. It wasn’t poetry, it was just something I wrote when I was on acid yesterday night with Clefus, Chancey, Trevo, and RyRy. You haven’t met Trevo and RyRy yet. God were those two a trip. Have you ever seen Trailer Park Boys. Well they’re pretty much our Trevor and Corey. The semblance in namesake between Trevo and Trevor was just a pure Godsend because that’s just too awesome and spot fucking on to not be, but I’ll tell you a little bit more about them later. Here’s what I wrote:
Dying has had a profound sense of change on my sense of time. (Well that and the acid, but that’s neither here nor there) I no longer know if I can think of time as fucking linear progression ya know. Little segments cut up, one next to the other, one following one another. I don’t think the living or the almost dead have any sense of linear time except out of boredom which makes the moments drag. Time is more a cloudy straight line we sell to children to make them grow up and forget there present moment where past and future buble out from without. For where the sphere of duration ever oscillating back and forth be truly grasp in a man’s eyes then he shall see God for he has come forth into the eternal now. The place where no man dies for intrixed by true being he surely is and is so gladly.
It reminds me of Bergson’s Creative Mind, well minus that gibberish at the end, that’s probably more akin to Paul Tillich if anything. God Damn was Bergson a brilliant philosopher. He hits it right on the mother fucking nail. You’ll just have to read it yourself to get what I’m talking about ya fucker. But anyway, talk about one hell of night and that was some hella good LSmotherfuckingD. Unlike the usual paper tabs we scrounged up from time to time these tabs were tiny little blue gel mother fuckers and inside them lay experience unbequethed to the average milieu of day to day living. Inside these little mother fuckers lay an apocolypse of the soul where divine insanity touches human fragility. Where darkness trembles at the coming of the light. But putting aside all things overly poetic and what not, they bore what was to be a clandestine night filled with auspicious colors and evening stars. The stoner snacks I was eating as the trip was taking a turn for the best were equally auspicious. The kind of auspicious that will make you wonder if you really even know what the fucking word auspicious even means. I mean fuck do you? Well fuck do you? I think I might. You probably do though, you seem pretty smart, at the least patient if you’ve been sitting here for this long letting me ramble on Zeppelin style. Anyway, I was having the dining experience of a nutritional fucking nightmare, but damn was it a hell of a meal.
GOLDEN BEAR TEA: OREOS [DOUBLE STUFFED]: CIGARETTES
One of the most delicious trifectas this fucking universe has to offer when one takes a girl named lucy out for a cosmic date. But then again, I was tripping balls and I needed to eat something before going to work. Now this may not be the best idea, given that I work at a pretty face paced high velocity sorta job, but it was mainly Clefus’ fucking fault. At least that’s what I was sticking with.
So you see me, Clefus, and Chancey went out and fucking about to go boozing as per usual on a Sunday night. It was a great time. Our boss Stewey and his gal pal Natalia were there, and they were fucking sloshed. Shit we all were. One thing led to another, mainly more shots of Jose, and next thing I know I’m at Clefus’ apartment. It’s odd waking up out of a blackout, but when you take as much fucking addy as I do it’s bound to happen time to time where no amount of alcohol can overcome the ferocity of stimulants coursing through one’s veins. As the room began to brighten around me, I figured, in our drunken darken stuper, we must of railed some speed or something because there I was mid conversation with Clefus sitting on his couch and I was jittery as fuck.
Wait what were we talking about? Did I just say this couch feels like pink pillow clouds. Why the fuck would I say that? Did we smoke some smot or rail a line or something? How fucking high were we? Somethings not right. Something is… I just can’t quite put my finger on it. What is this fucking feeling I’m having. Then it dawned on me, as I rose above my surroundings and the tremorings of Steve Vai’s For the Love of God struck just in that moment. Yup I’m on fucking acid. God dammit, I just tripped two days ago, I thought for a second, but then again can one truly take to much of this shit in the vigours of youth? Possibly, but youth is all I will ever know so why the fuck not?
If you’ve ever woken up out of a blackout you know the feeling. It’s weird as fuck. Like an alcoholic sleepwalking syndrome, but imagine waking up from that shit only to find out you and your buddy had taken god knows how many hits of acid to boot. The room began to fade in a blueish tint as I rose in a great fall. My throat was so damn dry from the cid and the… yup, smoked an entire pack already in the hours that had elapsed beyond my memories grasp. God damn was it dry, but hell one more cig won’t hurt though I guess. Why not, I says to myself. Why not what, Clefus asks me with a countenance of perplexion. I guess I said that last bit in the middle of him talking and now he was confused. O’ nothing budaroo, I says to him. Do we have any more cigs, I asks. Let me see, he says. Yup one left just for you you you bud bud. Ha he was talking funny, I thinks to myself. I don’t know if it was the residual boos still in his system or the lucy talking. Damn the last one, I says. Looks like we’ll have to go on a bit of a hike in a sec…. Wait what time was it…
Then yet another revelation befell upon me as my eyes darted back and forth from the clock, as it curiously took the form of a motherfucking pikachu, with the time of day conveniently located on its cute little belly. Fuck it's 5:15!!!! Fuck you you stupid little pikachu. I’ll take what he’s having, Clefus said in a slur. I guess I said that aloud as well. Ya he must be hammered still. You already did dumbass, I says to him. What, he says, as he somewhat forcibly tries to reposition himself out of his previously slouched stature. Nevermind, I says, as my eyes continue to frantically move about my surrounding environment.
I’ve got class at 10!!!!! Fuck what do I do? Fuckkkkkk I yell in a passion of the soul. Ya man, Clefus slowly laughs. You’re so fucked, he says to me. Wait what the fuck are you wearing Clefus, I asks him, as my eyes take focus on his odd fucking attire. What, he mumbles, looking somewhat down at himself. And then upon his face developed a look of utter madness and confusion as his eyes raced around. He looked at me. He looked at himself. Back to me. Back to himself. What the fuck??? How’d we get here, he says, to an environment both foreign and familiar to his now semi sober eyes. Yup Clefus just woke back to consciousness too. What the fuckkk, he says again slowly, as he began to raise his hands before his face and silence overtook him. Dude…. he says to me with his brief silence now coming to an end. Dude, he says again. Ya man we blacked out and... We didn’t, did we, he asks before I could finish my sentence. Oh he knew what was happening. Ya we did bud. Ya we fucking did, I says to him. Fuck…. my hands… my hands look like noodles, he says. How much of that shit did we eat, he proceeded to ask me. I don’t know bro, I don’t even know where we got the shit from. I thought we ate all our L a couple of days ago, so it beats me, I says to him. No… No… he says repeatedly to open air. I know where this came from. Where, I asks.
He slowly got up and reached high above the cabinet in his humble little kitchen. As his hand clenched something from above and his arm slowly descended he began to unravel a small piece of tin foil. As he struggle to count whatever remnants of what I assumed to be the leftover L, he began to chuckle. Why are you laughing, I asks. How much of that shit did we eat? You don’t wanna know, he says to me. Well given that you look like a grey alien right now I’d assume it was quite a bit. A grey alien, he asks. Ya you know like those things off of ancient aliens… I know what a fucking grey alien is jackass, he snaps. Ok, Ok I was just saying you seemed a lil confused. Sorry that came out a little pissy didn’t it, he says to me. Ya man you’re cool, but how many did we take, I ask, completely ready to hear the devastating number. Do worry it’s not quite as bad as you think, he says to me. Fuck, what was that he proclaims, as he quickly jumped to his right. What the fuck, I says to him. Nothin, he says. Nevermind. Anyway so it looks like we took 4 or so hits a piece, he says to me. 4 or so, I says back to him. Well damn, he says. Well fuck, I says.
It took a second for Clefus to get back to the couch as he slowly surveyed his new state of consciousness. Slightly stumbling around the room, he took on the constitution of total intoxication. Enamored by every nook and cranny this here apartment had to offer. Then as he slowly lowered himself to the couch, he looked at me and I at him. Anyway, our situation pending further investigation I return to my initial question, I says to him. What the fuck are you wearing? Clefus looked fucking ridiculous. Fuck, I looked fucking ridiculous. While he was wearing nothing but his work vest, gym shorts, a hat that looked like it was straight out of Fargo, and a pair of white sunglasses with the lenses popped out, which I guess we had earlier deemed the life glasses. I on the other hand was wearing a white christmas sweater I think Clefus’ grandma had bought him, some running shorts, and flip flops. How the H E Double Fucking Hockey Sticks did we end up dressed like this. It was fucking nutty looking I tells ya!
Hey Clefus can I have a turn with the life glasses, I asks him in a quite gingerly like fashion. Dude why do I feel like you were wearing them for like an hour already, he says to me. Hmm maybe I was, I reply. Ya man ok but I want those fuckers soon, I says, a little more assertively this time. I don’t remember what it was like wearing them, where they came from, or why I wanted them so. All I knew is I wanted those fuckers bad… like really fucking bad. They were the key to higher existence. A visual portal to the great fucking beyond where mystics dance and fucking demons play. Holy shit was I tripping my fucking left and right nuts off. Sweet baby Jesus this is getting intense. Shit man I felt like the fucking Hubble telescope right now blissfully floating in the upper reaches of earth’s gravitational pull. I was up there just beholding all the aesthetic wonders this brilliantly chaotic universe had to offer the eyes of man. It was trippy as balls over a hot blue fire. Fuck that doesn’t make sense… well it did at the moment.
Time moves slow when you’re on this shit. Hours elongate into days and seconds minutes. It opens the mind to a fuller perception of the world. A world beyond just yourself where others seem not so strange… not so distant. Frustrations evaporate for the world’s symphonies overtake thee as I become a thou unto myself and thee unto me. Beauty. O’ such beauty comes to the hearts of men as they gander at a lovely existence so much grander than their own simple selves. Love touches us as brothers and sisters embrace for the first time and weep with joy, never again to be estranged… never again to strike out in rage at one another for joy is all they now know. The failures of my enemy become the failures of my own as I see man’s fallibility, my fallibility, ever at hand clasped together with all that is wonderful within his and her spirit. The death of one’s ego is a righteous thing, for it births a self unknown to self till that very moment. The true self. The humanity in man finally shimmers in the night amongst a chorus of lighted lamps covered no longer… Fuck I’m forgetting something. O’ Fuck I have to be in class 5 mins.
O’ Fuck. O’ Fuck. Clefus can you drive… Of course the fuck you can’t, you’re tripping harder than me. It all looks like rainbows, he says, glimmering of into the night sky that only he now could behold. Wait... what? You want to go to class, he says, as if he was about dawn upon a fellowship of the ring type of fucking quest. Let’s get dat ass of yours to class mother fucker. Call Chancey and awayyyy, he shouts to the mountains. I’m right here guys, Chancey says. What the fuck, me and Clefus both scream as we turn around in complete shock. How the fuck long have you been here Chancey? I’ve been here for an hour watching you guys act fucking autistic, he says, with a mixture of loving disdain in his tone. Ohhhh… Ok, hey Chancey how ya doin bud, I asks him, putting my arm over his tall ass shoulders. As I reached upward my friend, the man, the Chancey became visually reminiscent of the glaciers of an arctic spring forthcoming as winter winds cease to blow across churning seas. God dammit, what the fuck does that mean, I says. What the fuck does what mean, he asks me in return. O’ nothing, I says to him. O’ nothing, nothing at all. I just forgot your quiet ass was here truthfully, my bad Chancey, I says, awkwardly lifting my arm from glacier’s peak. Yup I figured, when you wrapped yourself in a cocoon in the beanbag chair ya fucker, he says to me. I’ll drive ya, he says, with a reluctance of disapproval concerning our present predicament. You a boss Mr. Chancey, I says to him. You sir are a mighty Boss indeed, I says to him once more for gusto. Come on children let’s get your ass to class, he says in a laughing sigh. Are you sure you want to do this bud, he asks me. Sure as my dick is long motherfucker, I say with a mad smile. Ah Fuck, Clefus says in an unexpected grin. This is gunna be a hell of a story for fucking you buddy, he says, smacking me rapidly on the back. And oh was it ever.
As I stumbled into class and took my seat the awe and terror set in on what was about to begin. It was a formal logic class… wait didn’t I drop that already… fuck, whatever, it doesn’t fucking matter anyway. So you see it was one class or another, maybe not even my class at all that I now was sitting in tripping fucking balls. As the letters melted down the chalk board and began to dance around my head I wondered. I wondered what this life is. What it is capable of being. What extended beyond the logic or whatever it was that we were learning. What we were capable of that knows no words. I avoided making eye contact with anyone. I thought if I did they would fucking know. Not only by my savagely enlarged pupils, but that they would know my soul and know that it was far beyond the realms of normal men in this moment. Then it happened. I, for some reason or another, looked about myself. My teacher saw my dismay, but that was not the matter at hand. I did it. I fucking did it. I told myself I wouldn’t fucking do this, but as the universe or God or the Universe as God would have it I made eye contact with a girl.
Maybe it was my acidy expression that frightened her, but my mind concocted different things. Did she see my soul a turning. A sin she could not bere. What she saw I will never know, but it shocked her nonetheless. What scar did these crazed eyes leave on her? What visage did she behold of me as the me I knew oscillated from inside out. Was it terror or the loss that struck her silent. Well I guess I’ll never know. But all and all I’ll never forget that moment either. It was too bizarre to ever fade from my thoughts. I can’t believe my teacher didn’t say anything to me or kick me out of class. I made it through to say the least. I guess I know how to hold my shit, at least to the bare minimum standards of what is socially acceptable. My teacher didn’t report me to the university. That girl did not bare to any other the secrets of my soul. I was in the clear as far as I was concerned. Free to enjoy my trip for the rest of my fucking day. God dammit was that a stupid choice. Going to class on acid. What the fuck was I thinking. But thinking was not my forte in those days. Just living as best I could as death lingered ever over.
Well as I left the building I awoke again to vanilla skies and pearly dew drop drops. Clefus and Chancey were there waiting. They half expected me to get expelled for that, but I had survived another slip with academic death. But they were good friends, and would have sat through the whole damn class with me if I would have asked them. God did I love them both. And goddammit Clefus had the life glasses. I forgot to steal those fuckers before we ran out. I got to get a hold of those shitty glasses one way or another, I swear to fucking god I will. The unfortunate thing is now that I’m no longer… well technically never was, in that class I won’t be graduating. Have we already determined that yet? I don’t know. You’ll truly have to forgive me for any fault of communicatory capabilities for, as you know, I’ve been little for sober thoughts in my dying days. This may suck, given my last cro