I felt it running up my arm, pumping with my heart, the thick, yearned for medicine I craved. I started to giggle, the laughing gas was starting to work, the doctor asked me how I was doing, in that way that doctors do when they know the drugs are kicking in. I had no answer, just a grin to flash the doc before I fell into my conscience.

I awoke in a different room with memories of dreams that quickly disappeared (sorry). They gave me a little package with my four wisdom teeth inside, all bloodied and wet. I was still numb and soaring, asking questions and pretending I had some wit.

Then home and to bed, I had some jello and drugs, passed out to John McLaughlin playing Bill Evans with a classical guitar quartet (with a classical bass guitar). Quite a good CD. But I passed out for a few hours and then got up feeling fine. I took some more drugs and started my homework. If anyone knows anything about Steinbecks view of anger in The Grapes of Wrath, please let me know as I am supposed to be writing an essay on that as I write this. Oh well...

Maybe a poem? (lets see what comes out now)...

my fascination with procrastination leaves me yearning for zero responsibility and all the things I've ever wanted to just appear and be mine, but I never wanted money, just the things that it could buy for me... and you... maybe a little house in a big park, or a big park in a little house where we can live and do nothing, like true people, and never worry because it will always all be there and if it isn't it will be soon, which would be the highlite of any afternoon in spring, or June. I'm not a goon, just someone that likes and writes and likes writing instead of fighting or worrying. Just relax, open your nose, take a breath... the drugs will kick in soon, and when they do, it will be magical, easy, worth the pain, worth life, the drug, the feeling, the kick-in, the monster, the dragon, the wisp of smoke traveling up my nose and into my lungs, chest, body, blood, brain, out my mouth, but it still remains, and makes me want it, more, more, more...