The present is gone. Fantasy is a part of reality when we take the brakes off. We’re thinking clearly yet not thinking at all, and this feels right. We stop trying to control things. Warm rush of chemicals through us. We’re fluctuating. Is this brain damage? We forget all the pain and the hurt in life, and we want to go somewhere else. We’re not threatened by people anymore. All our insecurities have evaporated. We’re in the clouds now. We’re wide open. We’re spacemen orbiting the earth. Yeah, the world looks beautiful from here, man. We’re nympholeptics desiring for the unobtainable. We risk sanity for moments of temporary enlightenment. So many ideas, so little memory. The last thought killed by anticipation of the next. We embrace an overwhelming feeling of love. We flow in unison. We’re together. I wish this was real. We want a universal level of togetherness where we’re comfortable with everyone. We’re in rhythm, part of a movement, a movement to escape. We wave goodbye. Ultimately, we just want to be happy. Hang on.. what the fuck was I just talking about?