More often than not, it seemed apparent that the recycled dope pooling in our lungs was nothing more than a mere illumination of our failures. Still raw, insightful and yet somehow reclusive in their delusion. The whole thing was mad. It was resting on each end of the spectrum, however, I was having issues now “tuning out”. It was as if we were stuck on the same channel for once. I was frustrated and pensive. You were over enthused. I just enjoyed the space I wallowed in when I didn’t give a shit. Of course, that would be more frequently now than ever. Still, here I was, holding it all together.