They say I couldn't live in the past--but

They say I couldn't live in the past--but now I rent a time-share in the 80's.

My apartment has a desk constructed of rubik's cubes with a Mac 128 on it. Each day of my vacation in the 80's I put on my mullet wig, acid washed jeans & pink leg warmers, and

Went to the gym, it was quiet and there was not many people there but it seemed full as an hour earlier I had taken a shit load of acid and was hallucinating like hell.

The treadmills and barbells were warping and melting, and I constantly had to feel myself to stay in touch with reality. I forgot I took LSD and I was stuck in a time loop during w

eight lifting. Up & down, up & down. My biceps swelled before my eyes, which had grown stalks. I rotated in a multidimensional eternity until my arms stretched to the floor.

My heart was pounding. How would I impress the girl behind the counter now? Maybe she wasn't into Stretch Armstrong The Snail impressions. I hastily tried to make all my appendages

stop obeying my evil twin sister's sub-vocal commands. I'd never impress the girl if sis kept having my limbs extend and

then shrink again. So there I was in front of her, with different parts of my body growing and shrinking, thanks to my sister. The girl was impressed when my head ballooned up and

exploded. At least, I assume they were. I couldn't actually tell because I was dead. I still am dead in fact. Which makes quite a paradox as I shouldn't be able to write this.

And yet, I broke the paradox. I suppose I break a lot of things, come to think of it. I have a broken arm, a broken marriage, and now, I add a broken paradox to my collection.