Well, the pot, actually, was great—unless you are reading this and you are twelve, in which case it was awful. XXX I met another guy who was funny and went to film school at NYU. It was all we could do to get past second base. It was something that was better to do than to talk about doing. But the acid was a classic bad trip, during which I thought I heard the breathing of dead people. As it happened, we split the difference. I was looking for myself. When my friends and I walked away, I turned back and caught him still staring at me, which made us both laugh. It wasn’t boring, and it wasn’t uncomplicated, and it wasn’t like taking acid.
