ironical

She left me in the night. There was no real connection beside the physical but I might have wanted a kiss goodbye. Her name was… shit, I forget, but what she taught me is worth the price of the acid and mushrooms we ingested, multiplied many-fold then bent and twisted around on itself until the inside is the outside, a four-dimensional object that cannot be captured on film or writ about with words. We are all people, hurt and caked with the dust of a half-finished road, beautiful and vulnerable, finding shelter in the arms of warmth; I am a handsome, interesting, often abstract dude with an alright penis. Go forth and multiply--which isn’t to say procreate or even sex, but remember what she taught. Confidence. Oh and half a pizza, thanks!