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1:31 a.m. / May 20, 2005 - - calea tonight

i'm about ready to cough up a lung. i think i went through fourteen cigarettes, maybe fifteen, but i lost count. a few of them were hand rolled. i gave a few out also. hand rolled ones, anyhow. mars volta show. most of the time i didn't even bother looking at the stage. just sat down, laid down, closed my eyes, felt the vibrations, disappeared. it felt as if i were tumbling through open space, that confused feeling when you lose your balance, stuck on repeat. it was a good experience, but i found myself thinking, 'i wish i had some drugs'. aaron was there. i told him this. he agreed. head nod, smile.

afterwards we went the wrong way home, ended up at a perkins somewhere; didn't immediately know the town. asked a few girls. maple grove. bottomless pot of coffee equals a little over a pot for me and a little under a pot for aaron. the creamer/sugar casualties were very high.

couldn't make it home without pulling over into a cub foods parking lot and running frantically for the nearest bathroom.

no literary sugar-coating here.

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