The
dreams
got me higher than
cocaine
. It was good that I finally fell asleep, I thought. Or I dreamt. Whatever it meant to think in a dream.
I like the feeling of coke. Best way to describe it is like a hit streak in high school. What I mean by this is that one lousy Friday night. You're sitting around doing nothing. Anxious. But then somebody hits you up. Yo this person wants to talk to you. You go and then they are with someone else. They are people you've never really talked to a lot before. But now suddenly you are hanging out.
Then a phone call or a text comes. The three of you say let's go. You're scared. The other two don't look scared. Going to this new place is just a regular Friday for them. They are cool. But you. You're a loser.
There. The same people who you watch walking the hallways ignoring you. Suddenly they are asking how you are. They are inviting you to places.
I guess that's what coke feels like. It's not even a high. Maybe it is. But it's not like those drugs where you trip. Yeah. So it's not a trip. Just a high.
But the dream. It was a trip. I could've stayed in it forever. But a crashing noise woke me up.
Fuck I thought. I thought about grabbing my baseball bat, but wished I had a gun.
When I got to the front door I relaxed. I was no longer scared. Pissed, but no fear. It was Cassandra. She had broken through the window pane of the door and let her self in. Crazy bitch. She gave me a look saying, you have no right to judge. And she was right. I didn't say a word. Returned to the bed room and tried to fall back asleep. The sound of the shower ran in the background. I closed my eyes. I could not fall back asleep.
