You feel the cold muddy water soak into your ridiculous designer-made-to-look-like-you-picked-them-up-at-a-Salvation-army-but-really-spent-hundreds-of-dollars-to-approximate-that-look-without-having-to-deal-with-icky-homeless-people clothes. Instead of obeying every logical instinct ingrained into your mammalian brain from infinite iterations of your ancestor’s successful responses to imminent threats, you think back to a pedophile looking professor from your uni days who claimed to be a mathematician (or meta-physicist or some such bullshit) who also taught a Zen Buddhist extra credit course you so zealously participated in. You try to remember the mantra he taught you, something that sounded like “Sockamykokformormarks”, so you begin chanting this as the horrible street urchins descend upon your Earthly body. No matter because your body is nothing but a prison to encase your infinite soul in imaginary physical suffering anyways. How perfect! As they turn your flaccid body into a jump ramp for their bikes to launch off, you meditate far outside the bounds of Maya and exit reality altogether. You have destroyed the infinitely impotent cycle of reincarnation and attained pure and true Buddha-hood. Beyond student debts, ex-spouse’s alimony, or your mother’s insistent clarion call to clean your room, you have become one with the universe!
Or not. Really you just got your brain pulverized by a bunch of cocky 9-year-olds and spend the rest of your days being spoon-fed by one of your fellow alumni who wound up taking on a career in an assisted living program. Is that irony? Why am I asking you, your brains are pulp.