A scrap of paper
Thin as vapor
Filling my clothes like smoke
A couple of wires in my heart are broke

This weekend was all sorts of mystical. Every second of every day brought a new reason for me to question my reality and truly appreciate the funny coincidences and strange occurrences that make life absolutely unreal and fantastic, to the point that its almost unbelievable. 

It all started with a Bonita Applebum afternoon. That is, the name of my hookah. I received this as a gift last year for my dorm's secret santa and honestly only used it once... until Friday. I'm not a huge fan of tobacco and didn't smoke it for that purpose. Instead, I became drawn to the hookah because of my appreciation of smoke itself. The gentle wisps and delicate O's (which I am quickly on my way to mastering... obligatory follow up photos later) are very much an art form. I felt like a shaman. 

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