[ WP ] After years of experimenting with drugs , the effects have caused you to access parts of the brain you otherwise could n't have .

`` Hey, Pablo, you want a hit?'' I hear as I pass by that damn red Civic. I normally would have stayed clear of it, but he caught me off guard parking on the left side of the lot today. I let out a sigh and get most of the annoyed scowling out of my system before I turn to face him and take a few steps towards the rolled down driver side window. 
 
 `` Devan I told you to stop calling me Pablo. I do n't want management to start asking how I got that nickname.'' He puts on the face of a child who never expected to be able to stop for ice cream, but is disappointed all the same when told'no'. 
 
 `` So I guess that's a no?'' he asked pitifully. 
 
 `` You guessed it.'' I say conclusively, heading back towards my lunch stop. 
 
 `` Man, Mark you used to be so much more fun. I do n't know how you got so boring.'' I heard him holler after me. 
 
 `` I started getting high on life!'' I reply over my shoulder, maintaining my pace. 
 
 I'm not boring. Maybe I seem boring to the people who knew the old me, but there's nothing wrong with the way I live now. I enjoy life more than ever and I do n't need drugs to do it! 
 
 After a short walk I give a smile and nod to the guy who always sits on the curb outside the entrance of the Taco Bell. He's wearing his green suit like always, and for some reason it always brightens up my day. As soon as I enter I'm greeted with the disgusting smell of low quality meat and grease. I walk in and start looking over the value menu. Ever since I got clean I try to be more wise with my money. I order a couple shitty burritos and find my seat. 
 
 Who cares if I am boring, anyway? I'm plenty more responsible, now! I have more energy and focus at work and sleep like a baby every night. What more could a guy ask for? 
 
 `` Do n't let Devan bring you down, Mark. He's a loser anyway.'' the man in the green suit tells me. I do n't say anything to him, since there are people around and, well, hallucinations do n't really care if you reply or not. Not when you can control them, at least. He always knows exactly how to cheer me up, though. That's why I keep him around. Sure hallucinations are n't as useful as better focus and extra energy, but making yourself happier has it's uses, too. 
 
 My tray makes a clap on the table as the pimple-faced kid drops it down in front of me, almost as if he were trying his hardest to express his disinterest in the expected courtesy of his job. I unwrap my shitty burritos, flattening out the paper they came in and putting them next to each other. Luckily I know it will taste great in the end. I close my eyes and focus for a few seconds until the job is done. I open my eyes to the most delicious looking burritos I've ever seen, my stomach now begging me to feast. I give my Leprechaun friend a smile as I chow down. *Nothing cures the munchies like Taco Bell. *
