My knees hurt with each step as I walk gingerly down towards the water. I walk past someone fishing in the darkness and stretch out on the wooden planks to feel the bliss that has been distilling for almost 40 minutes, now concentrated and potent. As the body recovers, and rhythmic, forceful exhalations give way to sweet, relaxed breaths, and the beating heart, throbbing limbs, drenched arm, cramped calf, are observed and noted in passing, I run my mouth along my shoulder, I taste its slime and glistening sweat. This is bliss, splayed out on the rain soaked planks, with Khalil Fong playing, this chemical bliss is the reward. The pinnacle of my week, no legal drug can beat this. I shield the moon with my hand and see a glow about my fingers. It doesn’t mean anything at all, there’s only bliss for now.