Galangalangalang.

It would be so awfully nice if I had a never-ending supply of marijuana, but wouldn't everyone argue this? I could just sit with a couple of friends and watch Flight of the Concords, while stuffing my face with caramel Bugles and chicken pot pie like I did tonight, only forever. And just laugh and laugh and laugh. And then I could take a nice walk outside, bring a Camel to my lips and ponder all the beautiful things in life, and all the detrimental things and life but not feel impaired by either ends. Listen to all the words rush through my head, all the words that I hope I can remember to put on paper one day. All the words that I hope someone is interested in reading one day. Then Mary-Jane could lull me softly into a delirious sleep that will only be interrupted by the morning ring of my metal bell. How did I love a thing that was and still is so pretentious? But you, on the other hand, are so lovely, all I can do is cross my fingers and hope for the best.