I woke up early today for an event that did not occur, then I stayed up to attend a gathering I decided against attending. Yesterday, I staved off my depression and my boredom by reading not one but two books in full and then doing 150 sit-ups and 125 push-ups. It worked and I felt marvelous all day. More than marvelous: I felt wise. Finally, now, in the second half of my twenties, I possess the maturity to handle my neurosis and personal bullshit with aplomb and certainty. But then the sun set and I got bored. My roommates had left out some candy for the holiday and I ate it. I set upon a third book, but I just couldn’t concentrate on words anymore. I got bored, distracted, and was riding a sugar rush to boot. So yes, I riffled through their (the roommates, I mean) closet until I found the drugs. Muscle relaxants, prescription: good stuff. I made myself some instant coffee with caramel and started popping them. Then I felt high and glorious—fuck exercise and sanity—and started doing something or other before I feel asleep.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up early for an event that didn’t occur and milling about for a gathering I obviously wouldn’t attend.

It was right around that attendance that I decided to pop a few more muscle relaxants to level off the excess of caramel instant coffee. That’s when the blur arrived. That really pleasant blur. Not the kind alcohol gives you, that dullness with the unpleasant looseness of the neck. The good kind, that happy-go-lucky shit too indescribable to be worth attempting to describe. I felt high and glorious—fuck exercise and sanity—and started doing something or other.

Only trouble was that time passed quickly enough that suddenly it was time to leave for an event I really did need to attend. So I gathered together what wits I had left and what coffee I had time to consume and headed out.

Being high at events is fucking great. It had been perhaps months since the last time I’d done it. It really can’t be beat. I was at that thing for like eight hours and I couldn’t tell you a goddamn thing that happened. That’s an exaggeration, but not much of one. I just got back from it and already it’s just slivers of microfilm that someone took photos of with their phone and then uploaded to a blog as a PDF. I drank a lot of coffee to keep from passing out, that’s for sure. People probably thought I had some kind of super human caffeine tolerance with all that I drank while still retaining my uncontested status as the most relaxed and laid-back attendee. That’s probably a good impression to make. I met some new people at this thing, but goddamn, did they not talk much. This other guy talked a lot, but it’s all one big blur. The only thing I really remember is this totally outrageous anecdote:

He apparently knew a guy who was at some party that was headed in the direction of a gangbang. Apparently, some chick at the party basically just announced that she wanted it, and the dudes started lining up. But then it all got too real and when push came to shove, every guy chickened out but two. And two does not make for a gangbang, it makes a for a Devil’s Threesome. Disappointed though they were, the three ultimately concluded two cocks were better than none and went at it. Thereafter, the chick had some kind of emotional breakdown and admitted that she had lied about being on the pill. One of the devils said not to worry, that he’d run out and get a morning-after pill. She said yes, but let me just sleep off this misery before I do that shit to my innards. Very well, thought all. Come morning, the girl was gone and she wasn’t answering her phone. Nobody saw her again. Then a few months later, it was time for a paternity test. As luck would have it, the fellow who offered to buy the pill was the dad; an unhappy dad, that is. In further investigating the matter, he learned that he was the fourth guy to father a child by this woman. The story went on for several more years, but in sum, he almost went to prison for not paying child support, eventually came to love the child, went on to win full custody, and now that chick is in a loony bin.

What a thing, all that. And that’s about all I remember. Some silent folks, lots of coffee, and this delightful gangbang that wasn’t story. Great day in all. Well, that’s it for me: I’m off to watch some porn.