So I poured myself a glass of water this morning.
That was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I took a sip and, oh my gosh. Sure you’re always alive and therefore full of life or whatever, at least until you’re not anymore, but guys.. Have you ever felt life? I felt life, man. Life was a feeling and I felt it. After just one sip. And don’t even get me started on the next sip, or the rest of the glass, oh man.
It was like, a breeze, that wasn’t actually there, just swept me away and everything was bright and I was floating, all light and whatnot. And this coolness just flowed and rippled through my whole body. Pretty sure it touched my soul. What a thrill. Water. Who knew?
Not many, apparently. I learned shortly thereafter, when my uncle asked what the heck was wrong with me, that water shouldn’t do that. It’s not normal. I’m probably what you would call, chronically dehydrated.
Is that a condition that I want to fix? How bad is the problem, really? Because if I become…undehydrated, WAIT, hydrated, I would assume that feeling when I drink water would be no more. But…but..
Do I seem like I do drugs? Because I get asked that pretty often. I don’t. I never have.
Well, I snorted laundry detergent once, but that was an accident! And it was awful, don’t try it.
Not to get all Charlie Sheen on you, but I don’t need drugs. I AM DRUGS. Why take drugs when I can just binge on health? Get high on life, literally.
Not that happy-go-lucky-make-you-want-to-slap-the-person-who-said-it “high on life.”
No, like the not-drinking-water-for-a-month-and-then-finally-grabbing-a-glass “high on life.”
Or the eat-nothing-but-bread-and-rice-and-more-bread-indefinitely-with-a-hearty-side-of-grease-like-straight-lard-and-don’t-forget-all-the-sugar-and-then-with-whatever-energy-you-manage-to-muster-through-the-malnourishment-stuff-handfuls-of-salad-into-your-mouth-as-you-sob-because-every-cell-in-you-is-screaming-for-fiber-and-whatever-else-is-in-vegetables “high on life.”
Or the stare-at-every-electronic-screen-you-own-at-the-same-time-with-no-lights-on-and-then-going-outside-in-the-daylight “high on life.”
The Googling-“high”-and-finding-this-and-using-it-in-your-blog-post “high on life.”
Or my personal favorite, keep-your-two-week-contacts-in-your-eyes-for-two-years-straight-and-then-finally-taking-them-out/having-them-disintegrate-at-the-attempt-of-removal-when-you-got-tired-of-the-bouts-of-crying-in-public-and-having-people-ask-if-you-were-okay-and-pitying-you-all-day-because-they-thought-you-were-lying-when-you-said-it-was-your-contacts-like-what-the-heck-I’m-okay-seriously-stop-being-nice-like-my-cat-just-died-or-something “high on life.”
Simply the best. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of everyday necessities.
But you know, it might actually be better to just do the drugs.