Things move around me outside of this room. Birds are twittering and I smell of smoke. My room is filled with wispy herby smoke and my breath will stink for the rest of the day. Birds yell outside and trees breathe.

Its 5:11am everything's waking from a rest, unless the animal has forgone rest for play and pleasure.

I have taken an opioid but my brain is too dysfunctional to process it.

Today I took four amphetamines and I wrote four pages on Carol Rumens poems, so much so that I scarcely remembered being in the room at all. I remember pen and paper and ecstasy.

Although pen and paper are ecstasy, so it goes without saying. I have smoked dried scented things and tea bags that I have no business smoking