indeed

Warmed by the cigarette light he glanced at the dwindling stars and felt even smaller than he could've hoped. It was a dreary night fueled by caffeine and lysergic acid. He wondered in amazed confusion at the seeming reality of it all. He wanted to cry. Satellite playing mirror images and songs alike his soul departed and he watched it flee betwixt the emptiness star space inclined and ready to be free of his head only to be found rustled among its leaves come the morn. Finally safe at home he reflected, shapes moving around him and spiritus anguished as a bleary young girl with blonde curls big lips and a free smile. Drifting like Kerouac in bed, alone in bed and dreaming already of a last smoke before bed his grace period was nearing an end. Death seemed to have joined the party of -1 and all the zeros applauded. Binary code and shimmering sweet karmic debt awaited with every last trinket on the proverbial lawn of 1410. 805 slept and cried and wept underneath the bed simultaneously in time with all the he's and she's and they'd all grin and shed two years and two tears away from chemotherapy once more.