I rented an apartment. I had met the roommate a few years prior, so it seemed a lucky draw, or so I thought at the time. I moved my shit in.

Mooch came by soon after. We drove to a head shop a few miles out. He wanted to split the cost of a hookah with me. I never saw his investment, yet it didn’t stop him from treating the pipe as his own. It stayed with me.

I didn’t leave much. Surrounded by pussy, it was never enough. Yet sometimes I miss it still; to feel wanted, desired in a world of shit and piss. Nevertheless, I sat there in the dark, just as I had been most of the day. Over-thinking, over-analyzing, swinging on a spiral of my own divinity. God damn my head hurt. That was the last charcoal. I stumble to my room and fall asleep to the rhythm and the echo of the bells inside my temple.

This guy sold me a bag of plants to brew some tea. I bought a slow cooker for the brew. There I was, getting ready to see my own personal Jesus, maybe some fucking aliens. It tastes like shit, didn’t seem to do much either. I drink deep and wait…nothing fucking happens. I need more charcoals.

I walk into the shop. Some motherfucker staring through a rack of pornos at me as the door swung shut. I went to the counter passing phallic arms I didn’t give much thought to. Bought a pack of quick light charcoals and walked out leaving that sonofabitch gawking.