4/18/99
-- Shit, I'm back here again! Damn, that X was awesome.
Well, lemmee summarize. After taking one each, Das and I started
feeling pretty groovy after an hour or so, so we came up here, and I popped
another pil. Then went down to Long Beach and checked out his office
(which, BTW, way outclasses mine. They get tons of free food and
snacks from Costco, and they have a big screen TV in the amazingly nice
lunch room. No Spice Channel, though). Anyhow, by then Das
and I both felt really happy and energetic; we really had the urge to talk
to people and shit. Driving home from Long Beach, we passed by all
these bars on 2nd street, and they were spilling out with people.
I actually wanted them to stop the car so I could go out and just talk
to
people. I know, it's incredible. They didn't stop the car,
but they kept on driving home. Anyhow, we played some Live 99', and
then Das and I just sat around and talked and talked. We talked a
lot about me, I think -- women in my life, how my view of women has changed
over the year (I'm a big voice guy now -- the chicks on the radio all sound
amazing.), music, and I forget what else. We were up to around 6
in the morning. It was so amazing.
Das and I both agreed that we love X, at least on the respective dosages we were on. It wasn't pulsatingly exuberance -- might have to drop another one for that -- but then again we also weren't in the situation to really let go. It was me, Das and Paul in very empty places where there wasn't anybody else around. But yeah, it's the best high -- if I could be like that all the time, I would. I know that sounds scary, and I'm not going to let X go to my head (no pun intended). But yeah, it was really Both Das and I were so wanting to do shit -- like socializing and dancing. Das is a really mellow guy, and while he gives off a great impression, he hasn't actively been extroverted since high school. Need to plan something around it some other time, definitely. BTW, I'm high right now -- at work. Bud induced. Of course it's Sunday and nobody's here, but still. I thought of all these cool things to stick in here when I was driving up, but now I can't. Damn. Oh well. I'm still taking pics, so hopefully Das'll scan some in for me in a few weeks. Y'all can see how much I've changed since my last picture-taking fetish period. Oh dood, that's right, I talked about Farand with Das. I really like Farand, it's odd. I guess I'm intrigued by his sense of humor and his seemingly genuine kindheartedness. He's also go a good vocab -- he used the word "crux" in a sentence to me. He was analyzing Stark Raving Mad and commenting how the tone of my journal has changed as my writing has matured. (Yeah, I know, smoking weed and going to work high is a sign of increased creative maturity). He compared me to David Letterman. Farand said that Letterman started out really bitter, and as the years went on Letterman began to enjoy his bitterness and relish in it. According to Hurricane (Farand aspires for "Hurricane" to be his nickname. I think it ranks up there with Maverick, personally), I'm like Letterman, only with my depression replacing Letterman's bitterness. Yeah, I like Farand. |
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