The world could have ended. It could have exploded in so much cosmic dust floating in the wastelands of outer space. It could have fallen down the rabid hole and gone completely insane. I didn't care. I was drunk and high on chocolate and cherry-laced vodka. I have never felt more harmonized with the cosmos.
Who needs love? Give me a slammer anytime.
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PS: I visited my highschool last Friday by the way. It's very different now, but the memories I chose to leave there were still hanging about the empty spaces. So real and solid that the air seemed almost electric... dissonant... even terribly imposing. I wonder if the stuff I felt were just mine? Or if some belonged to other, lonelier kids who came after me?