Idealism, and wrong pretenses, when I felt I had reached an ultimate euphoria (my head was so far out, like outer space, out, (metaphorically, of course.)) And my body was reviving, and cleansing, and regaining its natural senses; like everything I had ever felt was just vanished. I had been reborn. I thought for sure that what I was feeling would last a decade, giving me time to lose myself in order to find myself yet again. I thought for sure. I had lost it. My organs gave way to gravity. They were weighed down with salt. And My lungs were tarred. And my thought process was dropped. And my euphoria was gone. It lasted give or take 12 minutes. Fuck me. I need a sting.