A little while ago, John informed me that he sent me a package and that I should be expecting something to arrive. I wasn’t home when it came, so it was sent to the nearest, “most convenient” mail hub, further south and downtown, which was a little out of the way, really.

A few days later, I decided to make a trip downtown to retrieve this package. There was a post-work session before I headed out, and I was peaking by the time I got to the bus stop. Admittedly, I was a little excited, because gift-giving is completely out of John’s nature. What could he possibly have sent me? I wanted to find out myself so I never asked him the details.

It rained the entire day, but the precipitation stopped by the time I was outside. The sun was still out, and turned the sky a hazy purplish-red, almost as if the entire world had been through an apocalypse, save one Canadian city. The pavement was still wet and buildings were streaking with their dark colours stretching towards the ground. I started seeing geometry, shapes, lines patterns, movement matching up as I passed. Everything turned into puzzle pieces, aligning themselves before me.

And on the way back, I sat on the bus with my package next to me, unopened, anxious to get home.

Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
Red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me,
Lets me see.

—Tool, Lateralus

Inhale.

Colours are washing over you. Drifting, shifting, twisting, changing. No point of focus, no solid shapes. You feel the contrast and graze the answers.

And this takes you to a place you’ve never been, but always dreamed of. Where you’re bathed in happiness, and you can see the warmth of the light. When you hear nothing but stillness, and feel nothing but contentment.

And this picture in your head is as real to you as your heartbeat. You become lost to this world when your eyes roll back and your head tilts backward.

Let me take you there.

I once wrote this when I was stoned, lying on my couch, watching passing headlights make geometric patterns on my ceiling by in the dark:

I like to pet her kitten
She scratches in return

I hate hate hate hate hate being hung over. It never ends up being worth it the day after. I should get that idea ingrained on the inside of my eyelids to remind me. I don’t do hangovers well, and it usually takes me an entire day to recover.

The Halloween party at Em’s, Sheri’s, and Christine’s was still great though. I can’t believe how many people showed up in full costume. Jessie went as Frank the bunny from Donnie Darko in full fucking getup, faux fur suit and all. Tom and Mel went as a priest and pregnant nun respectively, both costumes homemade. Aaron, Wheaties, and I actually found some last minute matching Super Trooper uniforms (sans epaulettes), complete with hand guns, rifles, badges, ties, cuffs, and Trooper shades.

It feels good to be attracted again. It lets me know that I’m not so numb or intolerant anymore. Is it just me that’s changed, or simply the circumstances? I don’t know.

The only time I delete entries is when I regain sobriety.