. playing ... at half ... speed."He grinned. "You should ... have brought ... your friends after all," he gasped.A look of pain flitted across her fac...."Haven't ... got any ... left," she said. She breathed deeply several times. "They all act ... like I have AIDS or something." I'm sorry," he said."There is the support group," she said sadly. "But I don't think any of them are into racquetball." She brightened, but not much. "I did find an apartment." Good," he said. "Lock your doors."She. Even though I know Bill will bring plenty back. He said he might get a few tabs as well. That'd be really groovy!I wrote some more poetry. I got bored writing about cats. I thought I'd write about what you feel when you've had a real good trip. Here it is:For oft, when on my bed I lieIn vacant or in fucked up mood, They flash upon that inward eyeWhich is the bliss of being stoned;And then my heart with pleasure fills, And boogies with the daffodils.I managed to get 'fuck' in again, but I'm not. More

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