My day began pretty normal. Wake up, eat cereal, pull on jeans, call in sick to work and head to Dolo. Turns out my roommate (that lackluster ass-hat, dirty water, dick-lipped, anti-poon waste of sexual organs and air) decided to break up edibles in my cereal in hopes that I would eat it and then go to work super high. It worked, I was high. Really high. So high I could taste colors and touch emotions. Up was happiness and left was pink. But, unlike the joyful acceptance that comes from willingly doing drugs, un-willingly doing them is much different. I didn't know how I got high, which lead me to think I was having a stroke or that I had died and this was some weird limbo. Ultimately I decided that I was still dreaming. This was a mistake. I ended up at the park where I sat down on a bench. It was there, and only there, I think to myself... What a wonderful world
