Sometimes, I feel like a friend I used to know in Hamiln. He would get stoned and start foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. I joke, he spat lots. I end up doing the same with vapes as he did with bongs. He had a skull bong that he liked for a while, but smashed it to harvest resin. I made a brutal bong there from a coffee drink container and metal slider. It was dwarven: simple and strong. People there could not understand my desire to get 2 hits in relatively quickly to start the session before just relaxing and letting it circle the room slowly. They just didn't see why, how, I don't know.
I can't go to the hospital anymore. Freaks me out too much. The hospital taught me good and evil. My plushy taught me love. Music taught me depth of emotion and identity.
At the most recent hospital, I had diarrhea, the bed was uncomfortable, no side table, no nicotine, no tizanidine, 1/3rd gabapentin while in intense pain and they wondered why I could not calm down.
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