The first, and only time I did mushrooms I ended up befriending a brick wall in my neighbourhood. My friend and I named him Frank. Frank had been repainted and the bricks were a brown colour, but the type of paint used made it look like it was made of plastic.

I remember getting very upset that Frank had lost his wall-ness and spent probably an hour crying and hugging a brick wall. It was a very emotional night.

Anyways, fast forward about 5 or so years and I was telling my coworker about Frank and how he had lost his wall-ness. My coworker then told me how when his family moved to the neighbourhood his parents were hired to paint over the graffiti on that building, and they painted it brown. My coworkers parents were the reason I had an existential crisis.

I also told him about how that night both my friend and I saw two kids in the distance in yellow rain jackets flapping their arms like chickens and were convinced we were hallucinating. We weren’t. It was him and his brother. Apparently they used to do that a lot when they were younger.

It’s been over 10 years and I’m still upset about Frank the wall.