07 September 2014

A few months ago I spontaneously ate a bag of mushrooms while walking around UC Berkeley campus. It was 1 a.m. After an hour or so I was fully into the thing. I went everywhere. I saw mist and rain. I climbed on elementary school playgrounds. I befriended several stray cats. I had a great time.

At some point I heard my own voice. It said, “Ryan, why don’t you have a girlfriend? I don’t think it would hurt if you had a girlfriend.”

I said to myself: “Man, you’re right. I don’t know why I don’t allow myself to get close to anyone. Maybe I should just let it happen if it seems like it’s going to happen. Lord knows I’m probably confusing these people.”

Around 5:30 a.m. I returned to my car and listened to “Planet Caravan” on loop until the sun rose. I drove home feeling pretty good. When I got there I drank a half gallon of water and hugged my cat. Then I went to sleep.

When I woke later that afternoon I thought about what my own brain had said to me, about having a girlfriend again, and I said (aloud): “Nope!”