SPARK

The entire time, it was like I was in another world, a new state of mind, of being. There’s awake, there’s asleep, and there’s something in between those two things known as fucked up. It’s a semi state of consciousness in which you do things you later might regret, but also may neglect to remember. There was lots of dancing and standing and talking with people I otherwise wouldn’t have known. It was a bonding experience in which the semiconscious took care of the fucked. The uncaring parents whisked away into their own lives for a night of teenage rebellion. Shrooms were eaten by the gram, vodka was consumed straight from the bottle, and allowances were blown into the wind.

Most of the kids were sleeping over, passing out on couches and carpets various places around the house. Randoms walked in with their party offerings, cocaine formed lines on the table, liquor transpired into shot glasses.

“You look super depressed. What’s up?” I asked as sat next to him.

“Let’s scootch away from the fire it’s getting super hot.” He replied and began moving against the grain of the wet grass.

“It’s so weird to sit so close to something associated with hell.” I said randomly.

“Hell isn’t real… The world isn’t bad.” He profoundly concluded. I layed back on the damp grass and watched the embers fly up into the starry night sky. They deteriorated to nothing before they reached the ground and I thought about how we as humans are very much like the embers flying off the fire of life. Dying off quickly, yet still creating a spark.

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