Thinking Through Gauze Wrappers

Happy Saturday Night, folks! It's a lovely summer's eve, the roommate and the cat are home, all's well with the world. I am in a very rare state for me, friggin' drunk. I'll be lucky to get through this without typos. No big deal, we all get a buzz on from time to time. But why? We dull our senses with one chemical, sharpen them with another. How did we develop a love for an altered state of conciousness, much less find so many damn ways to do it? Our emotions are blunted things, never able to hurt us, never about to cut through the bullshit that keeps us little isolated beings. Moving is hard, as our bodies either slow down or speed up, out of our control, thanks to little chemicals. It loosens our tongues, it binds common sense, we love the freedom it brings until we're addicted and need to kick the habit. I'd rather be out drinking with friends, so I'm here, at home, posting on sauce. We're confusing little monkeys, aren't we? Even if we were all psychic, we wouldn't be able to communicate a thing to each other. I better go quaff another bit 'o beer.