This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real…
I have a few questions for myself: Why. Would. You. Drop/Drugs. At 4am? Why? Who does that? I don’t know. There were so many reasons why I talked myself into doing this, that I realized, I am THAT GUY. “Hey, let’s be rockstars, and fuckin’ drop some DRUGS!” Perhaps the best part of it all has to do with the fact that I don’t do drugs. Like I had something to prove? Like I have something to give!?
Life Decisions 2008
Anyhow. After about 1 homemade pancake, 2 cups of coffee, 40-minute east Texas yearbook explorations and introspective thoughts as to why I should have grown up in either east Texas or Queens, like all of the other really wonderful people in my life, and a bike ride home that I will not soon forget, I feel substantial, relieved, and totally subconscious.
As I write this now, I am still pretty much aware that dropping 15-year old drugs at 4am while talking about how rockstar it is to be sooooo clueless yet sooo completely approachable; filled with adult beverages and memories that confuse even me; is all some hoax to get me out of doing my daily routine and fulfilling my civil responsibilities. I am left with one 2-part question: “How can I make this day, the weirdest day of my life; and if it came in musical format (which it does), what would it sound like?”