Trip.

This is a magical potion composed of the following: delirious music infatuations, abrupt, chicken-scratch written in the uncomfortable hours of the nocturnal, and truths of the personal realm. Sugar, spice, and everything nice. Oh, and do not forget Chemical X. Watch me stumble through the dark woods and fall flat on my face. Pray that I get back up so I can start it all over again. Have you seen Beatrice?