I remember exploring Kleinman Park ca. 2017, assuming the role of Jack Sparrow, psychonaut pirate captain.
They lost me wandering through the sea of Pokemon GO! zombies. A metamorphosis occurred as the gnosis hit.
I screeched, not unlike the raptors of yore. Lunging forward, I ran. I was ferocious in my psychonautic adventure.
I dodged whirlpools of condensed quantum state matter and danced between stars as I ran, manic and unhindered, through the wilds of the multiverses.
Magick coursing through my veins, I knew belief in what I was doing was paramount. I was full to the brim with mystical mage daddy energy, and I was at an orgasmic intensity that resonated with the omniversal.
My screeching did not end with the confused and hapless Pokemon players, tho. I would now rage against the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints temple thingy on the corner!
These bastards of monomythic cruelty.
Their hedonism I could respect! Their absence of caffeine and nicotine I could not.
I climbed a nearby dead tree, sickened from water loss in the desert, and not unlike a spider monkey ready to bite the moon, I cooed like a pigeon ominously!
Beware the spy pigeon, its insidious gait!
In an absolute rage, I threw myself down from the tree, landed on all fours, and ran towards the Church, like a dog beast on vitamin water, ready to smash down its walls.
Then I heard a voice in the distance, "Is this your water bottle?"
I admitted, in a not very good British accent, that indeed, that was my water bottle.
I knew then that the Church would stand another day, and also the sun was coming up and people were beginning to stare.
I screeched, my arms folded behind me Naruto-style to increase my speed, and dove over the brick wall to safety. I was graceful, like a hobbled ninja fighting a drunk turkey.
Captain Jack had done it again!