Yesterday I was nervous.
I was supposed to go to a show with you.
I was really glad we were friends and you were smart and you challenged me to think.
I sat in front of a computer before I was supposed to go to your house and I felt anxious.
I drank two beers and smoked some cigarettes and I felt a little less anxious.
I went to your house and you gave me a Xanax and we drank alcohol and we had an interesting conversation.
A children’s movie was on your television screen and I played with your cats.
I ate the Xanax you gave me.
You had a happy and depressed facial expression and I looked at you.
We walked your dog before we went to the show.
The show was filled with five hundred drunken frat boys on cocaine.
I looked at you and I felt disappointed and I said that I thought everyone was on cocaine.
You gave me another Xanax.
I hated the frat boys and I ate the Xanax.
You looked at the crowd and you said, Yeah, fuck them.
I laughed and I felt happy.
We watched the show.
I felt happy and amused.
You looked sad and depressed and happy and you ate two morphine pills.
You asked me if I felt anything from the Xanax and I said that I wasn’t sure.
Then the show was over.
We were bored and didn’t know what to do and we went to your house.
You gave me two morphine pills and I ate them and I played with your cats.
We went to a bar with no cover charge and we drank alcohol.
You looked depressed and tired and I felt a little depressed and tired.
I watched the DJ for awhile and I moved around a little bit and you stood behind me with a neutral facial expression.
I looked back at you sometimes and you were staring at me.
Sometimes you were looking at the ceiling.
We went to a booth and had small, two sentence conversations.
The bartender told everyone to leave.
We went outside and we were bored.
You asked if I was feeling the Xanax and the morphine and I said that I didn’t know.
I felt tired and I said that maybe I was feeling the Xanax and the morphine.
We decided to go to the gas station to get alcohol.
There were a lot of people at the gas station and I felt a little drunk.
You looked happy.
The clerk at the gas station told us it was too late to buy alcohol and I tried to bribe him with a five dollar bill and you laughed.
We were bored again and decided to go back to your apartment because you had alcohol.
When we got there we drank alcohol that tasted like cinnamon.
We talked about something and I felt interested and you had an anxious facial expression.
You called me a sexist and I felt bad.
I said that sometimes you made me feel like you didn’t like me and you got up and went to the bathroom.
I waited for you for ten minutes and you didn’t come out of the bathroom.
I played with your cats and your cats liked me.
I moved close to the bathroom and the door was open.
I asked if you were okay.
You said that you didn’t feel very good.
I asked if I should leave.
You said yes.
I looked into the bathroom and you were looking at yourself in the mirror with your hands holding the sink.
I walked past the bathroom.
I said that I hoped everything was okay and you didn’t understand me and I said that I hoped everything was okay and you didn’t say anything.
I left your apartment and I felt confused.
On the way home I felt really high on Xanax and morphine and I listened to my iPod at a low volume.