I feel frustrated. Angry at everything around me.
 
 I practice using the lighter with my toes. This is really hard. Click click. I manage to get it to light before it vanishes again. I need to get this right.
 
 I use my mouth to keep the bong in place, and put my feet up to piece. Click click. My mind is racing. Click click. All kinds of emotions that I don't understand are pent up inside my head. Click click. The fire appears again, cooking up some of the plant.
 
 I purse my lips again, and I suck in the smoke. I immediately lift my head and blow it out again. I don't feel anything yet. I quickly snap back and try again. Click click. I get it on the first time again, burning it for a little longer. I wait, and then suck up the smoke again. I lay back, holding it in. This feels really weird. I blow it out again.
 
 I feel... something? I don't know, it's hard to tell. But I feel different.
 
 I do it again this time, burning even longer and holding it in even longer. I notice that the bong tastes weird on my lips. What does it taste like? I think it's a coin-taste. It tastes like a coin.
 
 I find it hard to focus my feet on manipulating the lighter. The sound of sucking in the smoke is really jarring this time. This time, I hold it in too long, and I cough out the smoke. I plop down backwards, resting for a moment.
 
 It starts to look like the ceiling is moving. The little mountains of paint look like they're sliding along the ceiling, like clouds floating in the sky. I've always wanted the sky inside of my room. I find it hard to focus, but I hear something.
 
 What word describes footsteps best? Clip clip clip. I'll settle for that. I think there's someone outside, probably our neighbor.
 
 I sit back up too quickly, and I get a surge of light-headedness. I shake it off as fast as I can, and try another hit. Click click. I notice how funny the slurping sound is too early and I giggle, coughing up the smoke before I can hold it in.
 
 The door opens, but I don't look at it. I need to take a proper hit. Click click. I start to get nervous, this is really important. Click click. Click click. I am graced again by fire, and I burn some of the plant. I hold in the smoke for a while. This is dire, it needs to be absolutely perfect. My entire life has led up to this moment.
 
 It's ruined by the sound of someone coughing, and I let out the air too early. I look over to the aggressor, to find his coughing has turned to laughing. It's actually pretty funny, so I can't help but smile too. I fall back down on my bed and start laughing.
 
 "What are you doing, Rin?"
 "Expanding my consciousness." That's how the weird person described it. I feel expanded, too.
 
 Hisao hangs up his coat, and sighs. As he walks towards the bed, I focus on his face. It looks different right now, but I can't describe it how. I'll need to draw how it looks now.
 
 "Did something happen?"
 "I needed my consciousness expanded. It has expanded, and so it doesn't matter anymore." I want to take another hit, but it might be inappropriate. I'm not sure if Hisao is mad at me or not.
 "Where did you get this?"
 "A friend. Emi's friend. A friend of a friend. Are you mad?"
 
 He looks at me for a second, and I focus on his eyes. They look different now too, it's extremely important that I draw it. Is he mad?
 
 "Emi? What? I mean, I... I'm not really mad, no. You should have told me though, this isn't really safe."
 "Hold that thought, I need to do something really important." He stands up, and I shoot a glare at him. "No, sit."
 
 I quickly scan the area around my canvas, and find some ink and an old piece of paper. I pick up the paper between my toes, and bite onto the jar of ink. I drop my things down on the bed, pushing Hisao over to the other side. "Okay, you can talk."
 
 He doesn't talk for a moment though, so I start painting his features. Holding my brush is a lot weirder than I remember it being, but I soldier on. This is important.
 
 Finally, he breaks the silence. "Can, uhh, I,-"
 "Yes. Do you know how?"
 "... No, I don't."
 I leave my paper for a second, pushing them to the side. The bed is getting kind of messy, I need to remember where everything is. I locate the bong and lighter again, and prepare another hit, as an example. I light the plant for a second, and then slurp up the smoke. I try really hard not to laugh at the noise, Hisao needs to carry my legacy. I look up. I remember seeing people make smoke rings when they blow out. I poke my tongue out and blow, but it just comes out as smoke. Lame.
 
 I remember that Hisao is watching, and look back at him. "Got it?" He nods, and I let go of the lighter and bong, resuming the position I had for drawing him. He looks different again this time, so I have to redo my old lines. I hear him slurp, and I can't help but laugh. It's such a weird noise, and it gets weirder every time I hear it. It must have startled him, because he coughs it up. He shakes his head, and tries again.
 
 This time it's successful. He holds it in for a few seconds, and lets out. He coughs a bit at the end, but it doesn't matter. I think it counts. I get kind of jealous, and grunt. "What? O-oh.." He looks back at me, and puts the bong up to me lips. This is much easier than doing it on my own.
 
 Click click. Slrrrrrp. I blow it out early this time, only hold it in for a second or so. As I look up again, I see the sky again. It looks nice, I'll have to draw the sky too. After this.
 
***
 
 Satisfied with my drawing, I hold it up in between my toes to show Hisao, but it falls down on the bed. Hisao looks down from the ceiling, and picks it up himself. "I never thought you looked like this, Rin."
 "It isn't me, it's you."
 "Oh, yeah. It kind of looks like me, I guess."
 It looks exactly like you, though. It's like, picture perfect. I think I did a really good job. I feel tired though, that was exhausting.
 "I feel like my body is empty. Have you ever felt like that? Like, a yearning. To be filled."
 Hisao looks at me, and I can see his cheeks puff up. He breaks out in laughter. That wasn't even a joke, Hisao. The war machine needs fuel.
 "Hehe, are you hungry? I'll go get something!"
 That's what I just said, Hisao. How was that funny?
 
 He gets up, shifting the bed. The change of balance makes me fall over, and the drawing slides down onto the floor. He looks over at me again, before breaking out into another bout of laughter.
 
 I don't bother getting back up. Instead, I look up at the ceiling-sky again. I think it's moving in a different direction this time. Does the actual sky ever change directions? Would I notice that? I suddenly start to feel cold. I need food, and I need warmth.
 
 I can hear Hisao coming back in. I smile at him, noticing the blopblurry bagels. I like those, that's exactly what I wanted. Thanks Hisao. He puts one by my feet and plops down, eating his own. I use one of my legs to pick it up and lift it to my mouth. Chewing feels completely different, too. Why does everything feel so different?
 
 Before I finish half of the bagel, I start to feel cold again. The bagel can wait.
 
 I crawl up to him, and before he can react I push my lips against his. Now this feels completely different, especially his tongue. Maybe a cat caught his tongue and he had to get a new one.
 
 As I retract, I plop down on his chest. "R-rin?" I don't bother to see his face, but I can feel his flustered-ness radiating onto me. I can feel his warmth enveloping me. I think that solves that. But I'm really tired. I've never been more tired in my entire life. Hisao starts to run his hand through my hair. It feels nice, but I'm tired. So very tired. He reaches over and covers me in his blanket, before staying still again. Finally. I focus on the sounds of his uneven heartbeat. I've done this before, but it feels different this time. Maybe I'll paint that later.