|48 hour session
||[Jan. 6th, 2006|12:19 pm]
8 or so bees in my bonnet
as far as drug experiences go
it wasn't the best,
i felt tired and lonely.
fortunately i had consumed enough alcahol to make me care less.
it was frosty when i met her
if i remember rightly
and i generally do
the amphetemines were wearing off
and i guess if i'd done a shot a heroin
one might have said, i'd have been playing with a full deck
'maybe i'll patent a diet drink
made out of string
and call it 'spew' or 'tank' or 'least' or something.'
i guess you wondering why i'm telling all this?
well, there is an interesting tangental story...
fully scientifically unproveable...
just like schrodingers cat
the first thing we noticed about their voices
was their subtlty
only just there
murmuring above the background noise
but then they started to make sense
like a rorscasch/braille test
for a blind person
'aha, your greeness
the smell of freshly cut cheese plant
tickles my nose.'
but then obsessive
like a 48 hour gaming session.
it all went wonderfully pear-shaped.
their lack of life (or should i say their oneness with death) was intoxicating.
their pleas and schemes for me to join them were not.
so i took the pills
the 'help i'm under psychic attack' ones.
they were yellow i think
fully tested on some poor monkey
it was pure gold
dense and unreactive
but you can't eat gold
and i don't speak monkey...