Pyre (8/6/2011|8/7/2011) [prose poem drunk dial]

While the one person I care about most is suffering more than I can imagine from a tragic loss worse than I can bring myself to contemplate, I cannot help noting that the night of august sixth two thousand and eleven (more accurately the early morning of august seventh two thousand and eleven) was the most  surreal of my entire life.

Photographic proof to be added later (perhaps).

P.S. Drinking six cans of Mountain Dew Pitch Black with twelve shots of hard liquor is technically speedballing because caffeine is also a drug.

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