u/IpHobo

“I’m thinking about going clean,” a funny thing for Andy to say as he carefully weighed out the white powder I eagerly awaited.
“Oh yeah, and do what? Can’t imagine a coke dealer has that many transferable skills.”
“Fuck you Dan, you know I have a degree in chemistry. Anyway, Coke dealer does have a lot of transferable skills: sales, marketing, customer service.” He wrapped the powder in the plastic wrap that divided it from the scale, wrapping a rubber band around the pillow to keep it closed. “I got a bid in with the water processing plant; I've devised a cheaper purification system.”
“What am I gonna do then?” I played with the hem of my shirt, half frustrated in losing my dealer, half anxious to get so high I no longer thought of Dana, or the sisyphean task of lab work. Finally, Andy held out his hand for his money, handing the cash to him. I greedily took the powder, hands shaking as I slid the baggy into my jacket pocket. “I'll see you later, Andy.” I was giddy at the idea of returning home. Perhaps Andy could see the excitement gleaming in my otherwise world-weary eyes.
“Yeah, see ya later, Dan,” he fell silent for a second before adding, “You know Dana is right; you need to cut back, man.”
“If you're telling me, it's got to be true.” I gave him a chuckle as I tried to hide the flash of anger in my eyes. How dare he mention her to me; how dare he tell me what I'm doing is wrong when it paid for him to go to college, through continued patronage. I tried not to slam the door behind me as a tempest began to brew within my mind. They don't understand; the lab work was grueling, eight hours a day I was expected to perform with automaton-like accuracy and efficiency, and that was before I got to actually paying bills and spending time with my loved ones. There were so many hours in a day, and the cocaine allowed me to use them all.

Anyway, Dana also did coke; even worse, she was the one who introduced me to Andy. How could she just come into my life, fall in love, and then just throw me away because of what she had done to me? She was the true hedonist, the one who had been dedicated to chasing dopamine, the person who had introduced the concept of procrastination to me.
Anger was perhaps the greatest of distractions because before I knew it, I came face to face with a familiar faded green steel door. I thrust the key into the lock, letting myself into my apartment. I flicked on the TV while I grabbed a hand mirror and booted up my computer. A fat line and a few games of Overwatch would set me right. My nose burned in anticipation as the particulate shot up into my sinuses. My nose went numb; finally, the burst of energy hit me, and the concept of Dana was gone. I was totally locked on to my game. The colors on screen flickered across my glazed eyes as I entered a flow state, focused only on weaving in and out of the backline. Before I knew it, I had done a quarter of my bag, and it was 3 AM. I thought about sleeping on the couch, but instead I forced myself to stand. Perhaps I stood too fast, because as I turned, I whited out. Falling in slow motion toward the couch, I was greeted by an unfamiliar slimy, water-filled cushion. My eyes shot open at this new stimulus. They stung and my vision blurred as if in seawater. The putrid smell of half-rotten seaweed invaded every centimeter of my sinuses. The couch beneath me was not mine; it was some form of sea moss. Above me, bioluminescent fungus grew down from the ceiling, illuminating the room. Finally, my lungs registered that it had been too long since the last breath; my mouth opened to suck in air, but instead, my lungs filled with seawater. The pain caused me to black out, falling back into the clump of moss.

The sun shining in through my window eventually stirred me. The scent of sea breeze filled my nostrils with my first breath. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the searing brightness of the morning. I was still curled up on the couch where I had fallen last night. It was no longer made of sea moss, and the ceiling light and fan had returned to normal, yet the stench persisted in my nostrils, refusing to let me forget the dream. I stumbled off the couch, managing to keep my faculties about me this time. I sidled over to the coffee pot where the remnants of yesterday's coffee sat waiting for me. The small clock on the device read 11:37 AM.
“Shit, Dr. Hauser is gonna kill me if I'm late again.” I had 23 minutes to get to campus. I skipped the shower and breakfast; instead, I took a bump to wake me up and ran out the door. If I was quick, I could make it just on time.

“Late again, Dan.” I could hear the disdain in his voice as I pushed my way into Dr. Hauser’s office. The emaciated, balding, middle-aged man sat behind his desk, picking a piece of lunch out of his unkempt beard. The way his nostrils flared told me I had carried a stench with me into his office.
“I’m sorry, I had another late night.” I grumbled at him while I pulled my laptop out of my backpack. 
“In the lab I hope.”
“I spent all day yesterday in lab, I just couldn't unwind last night and it kept me up, not to mention a very strange dream once I did fall asleep.”
I could see his glare soften. “Look Dan, I can tell you are going through it right now. I'm here to help but I can only do that if you put forth the effort too. Do you have any new data?”
I glance down at my laptop screen at the disorganized LaTeX notebook, “Um no, I haven't been able to find any meaningful correlation in my data. I've been thinking about trying to collect another round but I just want to be sure that what I have is meaningless.”
“Well have you at least written something for your Thesis? You could at least write on the background information.” The vein on his head began to throb as he spoke.
“Sorry Doctor Hauser, I've tried but I just can't seem to put anything down.”
Dr. Hauser gave a large exhale at that. “Dan, have you thought about taking a break? Clearly something is not working here. It's ok to take some time off to figure it out, then you can come back as the old Dan who was one of my top students.”
I was certain he could see the flash of my temper behind my eyes as he made that suggestion. “Dr. Hauser, I'm not sure having less to do will actually help. I know I'm struggling to focus, but if I didn’t have my work I'd just focus on those things that are making things worse.”
“Dan, sometimes you need to focus on those ‘things that make things worse’” Dr Hauser, used air quotes as he said that. “If you don’t they will just keep weighing you down. I’m not sure exactly what's going on in your personal life, and you don't need to tell me but you do need to figure it out if you are going to get your PhD.”
“No really, I need my work, otherwise I will fall down into those feelings.”
“See Dan, that's the problem. Please trust me, we will hold your work for you. You can spend the time figuring out whatever is going on, and at the beginning of the summer you can come back better than ever.” The vein on his forehead had receded, and  Dr. Hauser was beaming at me as he ended that sentence.
“I mean I guess, but what does that mean for my stipend?”
“Unfortunately, we won't be able to provide you with the stipend for this semester, but I can guarantee you that we can get you back on it when you come back.”
I did some quick mental math to determine exactly how long I could live on my savings. I guess Dr Hauser could see my face contorting as I did because he added. “I believe you will still be able to see a therapist on campus. The school is here to support you as you figure things out.”
“Just not financially” I had to get that jab in.
“Unfortunately, money is tied to enrollment status.” He gave his best attempt at a consolatory smile, yet all I could see was the Cheshire cat.
Wanting very much to be out of there and erase the mocking grin from my mind's eye. I finally acquiesce to his request. “Fine, if you think it's for the best, send me the paperwork.”
“Alright Dan, I can send them over right now,” He tapped away at his keyboard briefly before a notification hit my phone. “And Dan, please stay in contact, you won't be enrolled but you’ll still be my student.” The smile he offered now was warming, and almost reminded me of Dana.
“I will, if I don't have to go into the lab then I guess I'll head home and get some rest to make up for last night.”
“You do that Dan, and just make sure to get that paperwork done by the end of the week.” Dr. Hauser stood to see me out, clasping my shoulder in what he thought was a warm gesture but felt more domineering. 

Luckily, the unisex bathroom on the first floor wasn’t occupied. Locking the door behind me, I pull my mirror out of my bag, cutting a line with my student ID. Why the fuck had Dr. Hauser reminded me of Dana? It ultimately didn’t matter as soon the warm ecstasy would engulf me. I decided to treat myself, railing a second line before washing my hands for appearance and slipping out of the bathroom and neuroscience building into an unseasonably warm rain.
The massive drops of water seemed to be warmer than the air as they blotted onto the sidewalk around me. As I walked, I looked at the trees as they were battered by the deluge. The branches recoiled from every drop, creating a constant motion that reminded me of sea anemones. Before long, I noticed myself kicking up water with every step. The flood was advancing quickly; in the few minutes it had taken me to walk off the quad, two and a half inches of standing water had accumulated, and not just where I stood but everywhere I could see. A car drove past me, spewing a wave of saltwater over me. Behind the wheel, the driver wore some kind of mask, one with many tentacles. By the time the wave had broken over me, the car was gone, and now I stood in knee-high warm water; below me, the water was alive with small fish, crabs, and even a few starfish. It reminded me very much of the tide pool exhibits at the aquarium.
Finally, I stood at the top of the hill right over my apartment building; now the water rose to my chest. I began to panic, worried I would drown, until a deep calm came over me as the water reached my chin. The first breath of seawater burned just like it had in my dream, but the second was indistinguishable from air.
My apartment building had miraculously traded it concrete for coral. The image was unclear in the water, but I was certain that the walls were no longer the perfectly smooth construction it was a few hours earlier. I expected the inside of the building to contain air so that I might get rid of the awful taste of sea water, but instead I was greeted by a current of even warmer water as I pushed through the odd slimy flagella that had replaced the revolving doors. I swam up the stairs to the third floor to find the familiar green door of my apartment, although it now had barnacles encrusted on its edges. My key still seemed to open the door despite all the fresh construction the building had undergone.
Pushing through the door, I drop my backpack before I turn to fully face the room. I am greeted with the same space from my dream last night. I emit an aggressive set of bubbles in surprise. I bring my hands to my face to rub my eyes because at this point I know I must be hallucinating and Andy must have given me something laced; asshole. As I pulled my hand away from my face, a new figure was present in my water-logged apartment. A large cephalopod with the body of an octopus but with two longer tentacles that hung well below its body, one clutched a metal tablet while the other was being used for locomotion. It still further had a gaggle of smaller tentacles directly beneath its body that gave the impression of an unkempt beard. Its skin color was slowly pulsing between a deep blue and red; the splotches of color formed and moved similar to a lava lamp. Behind two clear eyelids lay a pair of my own eyes: blue-green human irises.

The cephalopod had finally properly taken notice of me. From its beard of tentacles came a deluge of bubbles. They came and went almost as if they were trying to talk to me. The bubbles also coincided with rapid color changes across the body, from the splotchy purple tones it had originally to neon yellow, solid black, and deep red. The skin flickered and tessellated so quickly I could not register all the changes; in some moments it disappeared into the water. It began to advance toward me, pushing itself along with both of its longer arm tentacles, until we were eye to eye. I squirmed as I made eye contact with my own eyes in the head of the creature. It studied my face—the untrimmed beard that I had been growing since Dana had dumped me, the ever-growing forehead as my hair receded. As the creature ran my eyes over me, I began to notice how similar we looked. He too had a large forehead and an unkempt beard; even its structure looked a bit like my round cheeks. It was then that he raised his tentacle to my face, brushing the hair of my beard. This sent such a shock through me that I lost consciousness, falling forward through the water slowly at first, but then I thudded into my wooden floor hard, jolted back into conscious life. I was laying in my own dry apartment. I could feel the warmth of a bruise forming on my right cheek where I had met the ground. I pushed myself up, turned around, and locked the door behind me.

“I’m thinking about going clean,” a funny thing for Andy to say as he carefully weighed out the white powder I eagerly awaited.
“Oh yeah, and do what? Can’t imagine a coke dealer has that many transferable skills.”
“Fuck you Dan, you know I have a degree in chemistry. Anyway, Coke dealer does have a lot of transferable skills: sales, marketing, customer service.” He wrapped the powder in the plastic wrap that divided it from the scale, wrapping a rubber band around the pillow to keep it closed. “I got a bid in with the water processing plant; I've devised a cheaper purification system.”
“What am I gonna do then?” I played with the hem of my shirt, half frustrated in losing my dealer, half anxious to get so high I no longer thought of Dana, or the sisyphean task of lab work. Finally, Andy held out his hand for his money, handing the cash to him. I greedily took the powder, hands shaking as I slid the baggy into my jacket pocket. “I'll see you later, Andy.” I was giddy at the idea of returning home. Perhaps Andy could see the excitement gleaming in my otherwise world-weary eyes.
“Yeah, see ya later, Dan,” he fell silent for a second before adding, “You know Dana is right; you need to cut back, man.”
“If you're telling me, it's got to be true.” I gave him a chuckle as I tried to hide the flash of anger in my eyes. How dare he mention her to me; how dare he tell me what I'm doing is wrong when it paid for him to go to college, through continued patronage. I tried not to slam the door behind me as a tempest began to brew within my mind. They don't understand; the lab work was grueling, eight hours a day I was expected to perform with automaton-like accuracy and efficiency, and that was before I got to actually paying bills and spending time with my loved ones. There were so many hours in a day, and the cocaine allowed me to use them all.

Anyway, Dana also did coke; even worse, she was the one who introduced me to Andy. How could she just come into my life, fall in love, and then just throw me away because of what she had done to me? She was the true hedonist, the one who had been dedicated to chasing dopamine, the person who had introduced the concept of procrastination to me.
Anger was perhaps the greatest of distractions because before I knew it, I came face to face with a familiar faded green steel door. I thrust the key into the lock, letting myself into my apartment. I flicked on the TV while I grabbed a hand mirror and booted up my computer. A fat line and a few games of Overwatch would set me right. My nose burned in anticipation as the particulate shot up into my sinuses. My nose went numb; finally, the burst of energy hit me, and the concept of Dana was gone. I was totally locked on to my game. The colors on screen flickered across my glazed eyes as I entered a flow state, focused only on weaving in and out of the backline. Before I knew it, I had done a quarter of my bag, and it was 3 AM. I thought about sleeping on the couch, but instead I forced myself to stand. Perhaps I stood too fast, because as I turned, I whited out. Falling in slow motion toward the couch, I was greeted by an unfamiliar slimy, water-filled cushion. My eyes shot open at this new stimulus. They stung and my vision blurred as if in seawater. The putrid smell of half-rotten seaweed invaded every centimeter of my sinuses. The couch beneath me was not mine; it was some form of sea moss. Above me, bioluminescent fungus grew down from the ceiling, illuminating the room. Finally, my lungs registered that it had been too long since the last breath; my mouth opened to suck in air, but instead, my lungs filled with seawater. The pain caused me to black out, falling back into the clump of moss.

The sun shining in through my window eventually stirred me. The scent of sea breeze filled my nostrils with my first breath. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the searing brightness of the morning. I was still curled up on the couch where I had fallen last night. It was no longer made of sea moss, and the ceiling light and fan had returned to normal, yet the stench persisted in my nostrils, refusing to let me forget the dream. I stumbled off the couch, managing to keep my faculties about me this time. I sidled over to the coffee pot where the remnants of yesterday's coffee sat waiting for me. The small clock on the device read 11:37 AM.
“Shit, Dr. Hauser is gonna kill me if I'm late again.” I had 23 minutes to get to campus. I skipped the shower and breakfast; instead, I took a bump to wake me up and ran out the door. If I was quick, I could make it just on time.

“Late again, Dan.” I could hear the disdain in his voice as I pushed my way into Dr. Hauser’s office. The emaciated, balding, middle-aged man sat behind his desk, picking a piece of lunch out of his unkempt beard. The way his nostrils flared told me I had carried a stench with me into his office.
“I’m sorry, I had another late night.” I grumbled at him while I pulled my laptop out of my backpack. 
“In the lab I hope.”
“I spent all day yesterday in lab, I just couldn't unwind last night and it kept me up, not to mention a very strange dream once I did fall asleep.”
I could see his glare soften. “Look Dan, I can tell you are going through it right now. I'm here to help but I can only do that if you put forth the effort too. Do you have any new data?”
I glance down at my laptop screen at the disorganized LaTeX notebook, “Um no, I haven't been able to find any meaningful correlation in my data. I've been thinking about trying to collect another round but I just want to be sure that what I have is meaningless.”
“Well have you at least written something for your Thesis? You could at least write on the background information.” The vein on his head began to throb as he spoke.
“Sorry Doctor Hauser, I've tried but I just can't seem to put anything down.”
Dr. Hauser gave a large exhale at that. “Dan, have you thought about taking a break? Clearly something is not working here. It's ok to take some time off to figure it out, then you can come back as the old Dan who was one of my top students.”
I was certain he could see the flash of my temper behind my eyes as he made that suggestion. “Dr. Hauser, I'm not sure having less to do will actually help. I know I'm struggling to focus, but if I didn’t have my work I'd just focus on those things that are making things worse.”
“Dan, sometimes you need to focus on those ‘things that make things worse’” Dr Hauser, used air quotes as he said that. “If you don’t they will just keep weighing you down. I’m not sure exactly what's going on in your personal life, and you don't need to tell me but you do need to figure it out if you are going to get your PhD.”
“No really, I need my work, otherwise I will fall down into those feelings.”
“See Dan, that's the problem. Please trust me, we will hold your work for you. You can spend the time figuring out whatever is going on, and at the beginning of the summer you can come back better than ever.” The vein on his forehead had receded, and  Dr. Hauser was beaming at me as he ended that sentence.
“I mean I guess, but what does that mean for my stipend?”
“Unfortunately, we won't be able to provide you with the stipend for this semester, but I can guarantee you that we can get you back on it when you come back.”
I did some quick mental math to determine exactly how long I could live on my savings. I guess Dr Hauser could see my face contorting as I did because he added. “I believe you will still be able to see a therapist on campus. The school is here to support you as you figure things out.”
“Just not financially” I had to get that jab in.
“Unfortunately, money is tied to enrollment status.” He gave his best attempt at a consolatory smile, yet all I could see was the Cheshire cat.
Wanting very much to be out of there and erase the mocking grin from my mind's eye. I finally acquiesce to his request. “Fine, if you think it's for the best, send me the paperwork.”
“Alright Dan, I can send them over right now,” He tapped away at his keyboard briefly before a notification hit my phone. “And Dan, please stay in contact, you won't be enrolled but you’ll still be my student.” The smile he offered now was warming, and almost reminded me of Dana.
“I will, if I don't have to go into the lab then I guess I'll head home and get some rest to make up for last night.”
“You do that Dan, and just make sure to get that paperwork done by the end of the week.” Dr. Hauser stood to see me out, clasping my shoulder in what he thought was a warm gesture but felt more domineering. 

Luckily, the unisex bathroom on the first floor wasn’t occupied. Locking the door behind me, I pull my mirror out of my bag, cutting a line with my student ID. Why the fuck had Dr. Hauser reminded me of Dana? It ultimately didn’t matter as soon the warm ecstasy would engulf me. I decided to treat myself, railing a second line before washing my hands for appearance and slipping out of the bathroom and neuroscience building into an unseasonably warm rain.
The massive drops of water seemed to be warmer than the air as they blotted onto the sidewalk around me. As I walked, I looked at the trees as they were battered by the deluge. The branches recoiled from every drop, creating a constant motion that reminded me of sea anemones. Before long, I noticed myself kicking up water with every step. The flood was advancing quickly; in the few minutes it had taken me to walk off the quad, two and a half inches of standing water had accumulated, and not just where I stood but everywhere I could see. A car drove past me, spewing a wave of saltwater over me. Behind the wheel, the driver wore some kind of mask, one with many tentacles. By the time the wave had broken over me, the car was gone, and now I stood in knee-high warm water; below me, the water was alive with small fish, crabs, and even a few starfish. It reminded me very much of the tide pool exhibits at the aquarium.
Finally, I stood at the top of the hill right over my apartment building; now the water rose to my chest. I began to panic, worried I would drown, until a deep calm came over me as the water reached my chin. The first breath of seawater burned just like it had in my dream, but the second was indistinguishable from air.
My apartment building had miraculously traded it concrete for coral. The image was unclear in the water, but I was certain that the walls were no longer the perfectly smooth construction it was a few hours earlier. I expected the inside of the building to contain air so that I might get rid of the awful taste of sea water, but instead I was greeted by a current of even warmer water as I pushed through the odd slimy flagella that had replaced the revolving doors. I swam up the stairs to the third floor to find the familiar green door of my apartment, although it now had barnacles encrusted on its edges. My key still seemed to open the door despite all the fresh construction the building had undergone.
Pushing through the door, I drop my backpack before I turn to fully face the room. I am greeted with the same space from my dream last night. I emit an aggressive set of bubbles in surprise. I bring my hands to my face to rub my eyes because at this point I know I must be hallucinating and Andy must have given me something laced; asshole. As I pulled my hand away from my face, a new figure was present in my water-logged apartment. A large cephalopod with the body of an octopus but with two longer tentacles that hung well below its body, one clutched a metal tablet while the other was being used for locomotion. It still further had a gaggle of smaller tentacles directly beneath its body that gave the impression of an unkempt beard. Its skin color was slowly pulsing between a deep blue and red; the splotches of color formed and moved similar to a lava lamp. Behind two clear eyelids lay a pair of my own eyes: blue-green human irises.

The cephalopod had finally properly taken notice of me. From its beard of tentacles came a deluge of bubbles. They came and went almost as if they were trying to talk to me. The bubbles also coincided with rapid color changes across the body, from the splotchy purple tones it had originally to neon yellow, solid black, and deep red. The skin flickered and tessellated so quickly I could not register all the changes; in some moments it disappeared into the water. It began to advance toward me, pushing itself along with both of its longer arm tentacles, until we were eye to eye. I squirmed as I made eye contact with my own eyes in the head of the creature. It studied my face—the untrimmed beard that I had been growing since Dana had dumped me, the ever-growing forehead as my hair receded. As the creature ran my eyes over me, I began to notice how similar we looked. He too had a large forehead and an unkempt beard; even its structure looked a bit like my round cheeks. It was then that he raised his tentacle to my face, brushing the hair of my beard. This sent such a shock through me that I lost consciousness, falling forward through the water slowly at first, but then I thudded into my wooden floor hard, jolted back into conscious life. I was laying in my own dry apartment. I could feel the warmth of a bruise forming on my right cheek where I had met the ground. I pushed myself up, turned around, and locked the door behind me.