Drugs are bad (Or are they good?) M'kay

Published by LaGs in the blog LaGs's blog. Views: 123

This is me just reminiscing about the couple of times i tried drugs, if anything, just for the experience. I don't recommend them to anybody :)

I'm having the time of my life sitting in this room. I'm riding roller coasters and my companions here are grappling with the mysteries of the universe. All the while I have a stupid-looking look on my face. My pupils are dilated to glassy bowls, paving a giant gateway that allows access directly into my soul- The blackness of the pupils are like a dark abyss that draws you in like a tractor beam. I look like an owl who’s just been subjected to surprise butt sex.

I look into the mirror. It looks fluid and I’m tempted to touch it, but I’m sceptical of it pulling me into a parallel universe. I just stare at it for what seems like two hours but it was probably only for about ten seconds. The room is quite dark as I never bothered to turn the light on; it is only illuminated by the light of the adjacent kitchen. I feel like I’m at an amusement park, in the house of reflections. I’m looking at my face but it doesn’t seem like my face. It is elongated and I have a vaudevillian expression that is completely alien to me, but I am intrigued by it. It’s like I’m waiting for him to start a conversation, but then I giggle to myself for I know it’s ridiculous.

Walking back to the room it feels like I’m riding on a surfboard, the waves are big enough to work with, pleasant and without difficulty. They are bouncing off the walls and coming back and the change in movements causes me to adjust my balance. I plant both my feet on the floor, just to make sure that it really is solid. For all I know I could have been in Australia.

I’m almost floating on air. You could throw me off a ten storey building and instead of worrying about my impending death, I would cherish the last few moments basking in the rush of air around my face and body, and the surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins right before I hit the ground. A beautiful death.

I flop down on the bed which feels water-filled Come to think of it, everything seems fluid and malleable. My lips are starting to get a little dry, but there is a pint of water lying beside me which saves the day. Man my mouth is so dry…but I don’t understand…I’ve drank more than my fair share of water.

My mind is going in and out of periods of crazy activity. Someone is talking to me and I’m nodding my head but I have absolutely no idea what he is talking about. I can hear the sounds but there is no register. I think I’m looking at the back wall. He could even be talking to himself but I’m not sure. But quick! I come out of being dormant and now my mind is going incredibly racy. It probably looks like a light bulb has went off in my head and there is a sudden realisation which sweeps over my face.

It’s as if my head had unilaterally decided to expend some of it’s energy. Thoughts are impulsively running through my mind with no effort. Give me a rubix cube and I’ll solve it in ten seconds. I’m talking fast saying things without thinking twice. To my perception, my uninvited soliloquies had all the sense and logic of any great philosopher; such was the confidence the drug gave you as it worked its’ magic sending your neurotransmitters into overdrive with it’s almost electrical power.

I don’t know if my opinions are extreme, all I know is that they are being delivered with melodramatic zest. There could be paradoxes and contradictions in some of my musings but as far as I know, no one else in the room has pointed them out to me. My expressions are ranging from one of permanent astonishment to one that conveys a deeply frightened young child who probably just saw a premonition of his mother being systematically brutalised. Everything is done in a caricature, and I wish I could see it.

Anybody sober here might view me as a mentalist, but thank God they aren’t. Perhaps it’s time to call my local mental hospital.
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