187 | 031216

I was walking on the UB campus, and some random girl and I ended up talking about, and agreeing upon, how 14-year-olds act so arrogant, yet they are most often ignorant. She entered a building, apparently the dorms, and I followed her, somewhat wondering if she did not want me to follow her all the way into her dorm room, despite our recent acquaintance. Her room looked like an art class, and some guy immediately handed me a piece of chalk. I turned around to find an easel, and began working on what would have been a terrible attempt at an anime girl. Chris Fiume came in and was completely surprised to see me there. I was back outside again, standing between Lockwood Library and the student union. Brent was there, and he told me that everyone was about to have some sort of drug-taking festival right on this location. He then convinced me to try acid for the first time. It was in the form of hard candy, and it even tasted good. I asked him what the health risks of this were, but the effects suddenly kicked in, dramatically disorienting me. Visually, everything became less recognizable and more polygonal. When either Brent or I spoke, I could see Japanese characters floating out of our mouths. (I would later conclude that this would be an ingenious tool for translating between English and Japanese.) I also noticed that, every time I spoke directly to Brent, a large red thumbprint would appear on his forehead. Eventually the effects of the drug wore off just as quickly as they came on. I still had the hard candy in my mouth, though. Soon, police arrived on the scene. People were nonchalantly taking the candy out of their mouths, and I thought I was clever in swallowing mine. The police began walking through the crowd and questioning everyone, and I decided to casually walk away as an escape. I was carrying my daily journal at the moment. I went into one of the buildings, and to my surprise, Dana had a message for me sitting on a cupboard. It was a note that contained two stanzas of poetry. I decided that it would be appropriate to write a third stanza as a response. Suddenly Dana was actually right there before I finished my stanza. She had returned apparently from a visit to England. I finished my stanza, and she said she was hungry, so we left to go to some restaurant that was on a country road in a forest. We arrived only to discover that everything was burnt to the ground. Driving through the wreckage, she even checked in some random bucket and verified that there was in fact no food for us. I asked her how her trip to England was, and she said that it was terrible because she had to stay at an old folks home, and some elderly man kept taking off his pants. Back at one of the buildings on campus, we were both holding what appeared to be individually wrapped in-line-skate wheels, all of which were glow-in-the-dark. One of mine was unwrapped and shattered into small fragments.