With quite a stutter in my first step I make my way to the unappealing notion of Algebra 1. Not my favorite subject by any means, but the slightly overweight, and amusing teacher has held my interest…even if not in a mathematical sense. Considering these things, and still lulling over the thoughts of the later events of Friday evening, I set myself clumsily enough into the fourth desk down, tucked against the wall. “Suppose we have anything in biology due today?” indeed the question was directed toward me, but my thoughts felt stretched, forcing themselves to play out my weekend once more. Though I couldn’t constrain myself to the chronological tide, no it was Saturday that popped up at once.

‘My oh my, I can’t remember anybody’s name, although I think that one is shagging his room-mate’ and indeed right I was. My mother and I had arrived at this fascinating, yet fundamentally frightening celebration only thirteen minutes prior. I could explain it in strict detail, but it wouldn’t feel right, no not with the state I was in. For you see it was a family friend’s 30th birthday, a lass who had met my mother in her college years. I can’t honestly say that I didn’t know her too well until these past three years, mostly because my mother attempted to hide her silly, yet consistent drug use from me. So I was placed right through the looking glass, placed with characters none too far from any group of Generation X. From those basic facts…the rest is quite a bit foggy. What I do remember was a fascinating, and pardon the term, but “psychedelic” experience. I’m aware that for some reason I had a mostly alcohol based antibacterial soap, the reason I’m so aware of the last effect, would be because I continuously set my pair of black Nike shoes on fire. From their it’s just bits and pieces…I know some fellow had this white Mary Jane and he talked to me, kept me level, and dear to the lord I needed that. Never had I felt something quite like it, it felt like falling, and being vaguely aware that my mother had passed out, leaving me to watch a bizarre card game between the gay fellow who was shagging his room-mate, the fellow with all the snowy pot, and some other bloke who I believe had blonde hair. The whole thing was terrifying, mesmerizing, fantastic, and left me with a bitter taste in my mouth.
From my handful of recollections, I am dimly aware that my mother and I ended up in a Denney’s with all the drunks…trying to sober up of course.

‘I wonder what all these class chums would think of me, if I let them in on dirty secrets, details swept under the rug, and pinched beneath their nose. Now Matt that’s no attitude, they’d lock you up, take your mum away, and then you’d have absolutely nothing left. It’s a fragile frame, so get your damn weight off it son’
And so I settle in, with a bit of humbleness to slow the twitching pumped effect that has surged through me for the majority of the morning.   ‘Reality is stubbing your toe, and it’s analyzing just why you feel insecure, or psychotic. Exactly now and never.’

Join me…Loves….