“Whore”…”fucking WHORE!” This emerges from the silence of the apartment couch where he was just snoring. I look at my friend as she hits the pipe-and we laugh. He must have vivid dreams when he sleeps on the couch. We continue rotation of the glass pipe. Inhale and exhale. Inhale and exhale. We won’t get any higher, but we will pretend we do. I should be sleeping. I have class in a few hours and nothing impresses a professor more than a burn out sitting in the back of the lecture hall trying to keep his eyes open. I think I should lay down now. I can’t even write-and I feel like I have a trillion words to say, but just don’t quite know which order they should be in.