Author: JD

I sit here in my cold messy room not giving a damn about grammar. So much work to be done yet no drive, no time… I think of all the texts I sent to my girl about fishing me out of this god forsaken hole, all she says is “if you can’t find an excuse to do your work, you should at least get some rest.” I brush it off, I’m going to skip physics tomorrow anyways. As I look around for some new instrument of procrastination, I see the box. I vowed not to examine its tentacles of desire until I finish my weeks work. I look away, NO, I will not tonight, its fucking 3:20 in the morning anyways, what the hell am I going to do with it. By now I’m just trying to build up steam to my paper, but the box is right there calling my name. I hover over it as an addict does its prey. My fingers cruise along the cold plastic. A Jesus design outlines the top. Funny cause I’m technically Jewish and this really isn’t my entity. Well technically I’m a deist and I don’t like the idea of religion. My mom hates that shit, always complaining about being closer to god, and living a life of meaning.  God, that woman gets on my nerve. Wait wasn’t I writing about something… OH YEA. I open it. The bastardized smell of earth and plant explode in a wave of ecstasy fogging my nostrils. My lips begin to wet. I look around for the RAWs I usually have hanging around. I put the plan into action spreading nuggets of oxidized gold onto a thin piece of unraveled scroll. My dentally hygienic tongue slides its way across the brown terrain, it feels like hours. Fire, such a beautiful sight. I crispen the edges with mans finest invention, finally a complete idol of beauty. The tip is now glowing bright orange, and the hot air courses through my athletic lungs. Deep breath. My eyes roll back and intake the magic. Hold. Hours course by as the cloud begins to simmer. Release. Mystical glitters slowly fill the boring room. The experience is over and I sit here a new man. My mind races to my paper. I peel the layers to this horrifying onion. Ideas begin to shoot out of my brain seemingly visual. The ticking of my keyboard a constant rawr in the atmosphere. My head so filled with information I have to put some on the side. Words translate to text, futility into reality, and blank white into beautiful series of black patterns. I’ll probably get a C.