This past Sunday, I took a strong dose of LSD and went for a walk. About 1km in, I realized it was too hot a day for walking. Too humid.

I didn’t make it all the way home without collapsing at a church nearby. I eventually made it home, although I don’t really remember much.

I’m unsure of the timeline but I remember I could not figure out how to get my key in the door to open it.

My next door {literally) neighbour came outside to check on me. I mumbled incoherent words and said, I’d rather explain this all tomorrow but I’ll ok.

Then I said I didn’t know how to explain my LSD trip and I may even been condescending at some point.

He gave me water and went away.  I do not know if I scared him. He may not want to live next to a druggie.

Not many people do.

I don’t

Well… Maybe.

The second time we interacted that same day was either before or after. I can’t be sure.

For some reason, because I thought I was locked out I was hanging out in the laundry room. He opened door and I acted odd. I don’t remember, but shortly after he closed the door I re opened it with some joy, now believing I was trapped in there and he opened the door saving me.

This was not the case of course so I look like a crazy person. If this happened before the outside incident he must have been very confused. If it happened after, less so.

Funny end to story. I slept Sunday night through to Tuesday noon. I stayed in the rest of the week and today discovered my shoes in the laundry room. 3 days later.

I searched for them for a very long time before looking there.

End of part 3.

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