Void
Bluelight Crew
Warning: This contains stuff about drugs and sex. If your too faint hearted, too young, or a tight assed preacher dont read it!
(This is a chapter excerpt from A LITTLE BIT OF MADNESS. This and other books
can be found on my website. See URL below.)
From the medicine cabinet I take a pair of toenail clippers and cut a three-inch
piece of straw off the shaft. Next, I unfold the aluminum foil, exposing the
white ball of compressed crystals, pinching a bit off and crumbling in into as
fine a powder as possible onto the counter top next to the sink. I'm in doubt
as to how much to take, but fashion a line approximately the amount I saw them
use on the tape. Stuffing the rest into my shirt pocket, I bend down and, straw
up my nose, free hand pressing shut the unoccupied nostril, I waft in the line
as cleanly as a vacuum cleaner.
I stand there looking at myself in the mirror, waiting. Waiting for euphoria,
Eros, waiting for God knows what. I put the straw in my shirt pocket and decide
to join Lucy in the bedroom. No sooner do I open the bathroom door than the
first not unpleasant waves of the drug begin to course my mind. The lines and
curves and surfaces of the apartment seem to be undulating as if they were
components in an intangible mirage, wanting to dissolve but kept there by the
sheer will of whatever inherent strength their molecules give them.
As I walk into the hall, objects, things, are there and also inexplicably
elsewhere other than where they should be, and I am moving with them, here and
there, rearranging ourselves in other overlapping locations. I am not moving.
"Max, what are you doing?"
"What?"
"You've been standing there for ten minutes."
I was unaware of it, but I am standing at the bedroom door, marveling now at my
voice that has acquired a basso quality added to an echo-like resonance. My
response wasn't "What?" It was "What-what?" .though the word was only spoken
once.
"What are you doing standing there?"
"I don't know-don't know."
"Get in bed."
As I step into the bedroom, I seem to be dissolving and almost instantaneously
being put back together. When I find myself in bed next to Lucy, I am still
walking toward us. The only light in the room is coming from the hallway, and
the night that is peeking in from the bedroom window like a curious voyeur.
Shadows are giving off beams of some metaphysical substance not unlike the
sensations of LSD. But this drug is vastly different.
"Why are you-you."
"What?"
"Why-why are you."
"Max, what's the matter with you?"
Why can't she understand what I'm trying to tell her? I want to know why she's
still dressed. .I think of putting my hand up between her thighs and find that
it is already there, inching her flimsy underwear off her huge fleshy bottom.
She seems to have grown enormous next to me as if I'm shrinking. Outside of
myself, outside the apartment I hear the cosmos clashing with itself in
perpetual, unceasing, violently needed warfare. The silent universe has opened
up its chaotic harmonies to me. I am outside of myself while my hand is
drenched with Lucy's yoni juice and I'm outside.outside somewhere in some
unknown weird dimension listening to the clamoring fugue of the savage universe.
And while I am there, wherever that may be, I am simultaneously suckling on
Lucy's breast, aware of hard lingam desiring to burst forth, feeling large and
vital. The odor of sex juice slithers from cunt to engulf the room, the
apartment, the whole world. I am with the mother of all mothers and whores, of
all nuns, of all shriveled saintly virgins that ever were or ever will be. Lucy
is the essence of Woman and my mouth is as dry as a parched autumn leaf and now
I feel my tongue lapping at the oceanic cunt fluid while a mental part of me
scuttles up into her, her womb, and I know in a brief, deft stroke the meaning
of all creation, the meaninglessness of evil and the absolute necessity of the
unceasing, churning violence of the universe. All this in one mental flash,
without words, without any appended explanation. Lucy and I are two living
enigmas explaining each other to ourselves without the crude utterance of
speech. I am at the mountains of madness and at the plains of unblemished
reason where knowledge transcends even thought itself. It is simply knowing.
Lucy is groaning and I'm sucking and flicking my tongue up her yoni, rasping it
over her swollen clit, her white fleshy thighs winged out like tilted pillars
until I have had my full and I clime up naked onto her nakedness, her
marshmallow soft body, and enter her and hear her moan a sound that dances in
the room.slowly, slowly and deeply I go into her, sex whispering between us,
sloshing, sticky syrup.and we come.and then again we come, without stopping,
without losing rhythm while infinity spins caustically around us, our bodies and
our spirits in communion with the vastness of the universe.
I can see her ghost dancing in her flesh. I can hear her body singing. I can
feel the joy of her flesh overflowing her heart. And I can feel the deadness of
my own carnality. Though I breathe and feel the blood flowing through my veins,
I am a corpse in motion.thick, gorged thing preening her inner tissue, an
unsealing wound, wanton and starved, hopelessly in need of illusive satisfaction
in cannot fully obtain.her gapping love hole, again, swallowing me.
."Wait here-here." I roll off, slip into my shirt, and head for the john while
other parts of me go in different directions...
.Two hardboiled eggs with painted irises and pupils stare at me in the mirror.
Every color in the bright light of the room is screaming for narcissistic
attention in their iridescent glow. In the mirror, I look at myself and appear
as if I have lost twenty pounds. My face is gaunt and sharp-sharp featured as
if it had been pressed like clay in an unseen, unheard, unfelt vise. My eyes
are enormous things sucking in reality. An insane impulse to rip them out of my
head comes to mind mindlessly. I suppress the thought, the desire, and am
curious as to the deadened quality of my flesh. I look more than ever in this
glaring light like a living corpse. My arms are brittle sticks. My lingam,
stiff and glistening, is the only piece of me that looks alive. I am going
bald before my hardboiled eyes. My hair has vanished halfway over my scalp, and
just as quickly new hair grows in.
.Flashes of light like multi-colored fireflies dance outside the bathroom
window. My hair has grown like a bush on my head, unruly, and standing on end.
A siren is wailing somewhere in the city and I know it is on its way to deliver
a soul that is agonizingly seeping out of a blood washed piece of mangled meat.
.I line the crystals on the counter in a two-inch crease, poke the straw in my
nose and inhale the thin cord in one quick take. In the mirror I see a dead man
moving, cannot believe that it is me.
"Max!"
"Wait-wait." .and the words echo on into infinity.
.I linger there until the calming effect has come over me before I go into the
bedroom. I take a step toward the door and without realizing it I have walked
three yards. .In the bedroom, I hear myself laughing in the hallway. .Lucy is
looking at me with curiosity, lying on her side, her thighs together. My eyes
are drinking in her image, her naked flesh, and I stiffen all the more, bobbing
like a searching antenna as I walk toward her.
I smell like the chemical that has gone up my nose and the room smells like sex
sauce. I'm advancing toward the bed in slow-mo, then kneeling on the mattress,
parting thick thighs. one huge, globular breast is jammed in my mouth and I am
again caressing her woman-flesh. deeply in her, I stand away in the room
looking at us.and quickly I'm in my skull again, my soul hugging my bones.
shadows are in the room, hovering, curious and silent. They come over us like
darkened clouds, wave around like transparent banners, aware that I am aware of
them, though I know not who or what they are. Lucy is quiet, her body in
motion, her face anguished and pained and she moves slower than time and the
calm undulating sea, slower still than memories of the past. fleetingly, I have
difficulty remembering who I am and what I'm doing, and when I do I have just
relieved the last nanosecond of eternity.
."Max." She sounds as if she were at the bottom of a deep valley.and then her
utterance is meaningless.sound without definition.garbled noise.and I'm plunging
into her in a strange eerie time warp.condemned.
."Max."
"What-what?"
"Go put on some Vaseline. I'm getting dry."
.in the bedroom I look at myself, lobster red, obscenely ugly, pendulous and
gorged like some lewd snake coiling out of me. I stare for God knows how
long.time does not exist; it has contrived a different way to exercise its
function. It is a state of mind that is constantly disintegrating and piecing
itself together.
"Max! What are you doing?"
"I'm looking." Did I say that?
"What have you been taking? Look at your face!"
.i see myself in the mirror. my eyes are still very large, the whites look as
if they are curdling. but I no longer look like a corpse. i have turned to
wax. even my hair is waxy, stiff. my flesh feels smooth and soft and my bones
feel as if I could bend them like willow sticks or tie them in a knot.
"Max! What are you doing?" Lucy is standing naked at the doorway. "Look at
your face!"
".my cock."
"Put some Vaseline on."
.I see myself in the mirror. My mouth feels like a tortoise shell in a drought.
For a moment, disappointingly, I feel as if I'm going to be normal again. As I
lead Lucy to the living room to mix some drinks, the unreality begins to come
back like a tide of madness, and my mind welcomes the return of this chemical
insanity, because I know that I am insane, though artificially, I am truly and
irrevocably insane.
"Do you know that we've been fucking for the last three hours," Lucy says. It
could have been ten minutes, a decade, for all I know. The fizzing cola in her
drink, misting over the rim, are exploding diamonds. "What did you take, Max?"
"Something-thing."
"What was it?"
.yoni juice.
"You're spending the night, aren't you?"
.eternity.
"I don't want you driving in your condition."
."Something-thing."
"What was it?"
"I'm not sure......sure."
"You're spending the night, aren't you?"
.tomorrow.
".I don't want you driving."
.diamonds are exploding.
"What did you take?"
"Hardboiled eggs-eggs."
"What?"
".Look at your face!"
.bald............head..
"Put some Vaseline on."
"My cock."
"I'm getting dry."
".what are you doing.?"
.for all eterni.
"Max!"
.in the dimness we sit in the living room.
"What was it?"
.naked, drinking brandy.
.the cigarette is burning like a subdued lethargic sparkler in my hand. I don't
remember lighting it. .Lucy sips her drink, one opulent thigh crossed
comfortably over the other. She has the succulent, undulating body that the old
Masters used to love to paint.lots of flesh, not firm yet not totally flabby.
She sits there like a Bottecelli nude with breasts four times as large as any of
The Three Graces. .I want to shower. I am aware that a series of amnesias are
weaving through my mind like broken thread and I soon forget what I want.only to
remember seconds later.minutes later.
.my surroundings, everything, including myself has turned to colored wax. I go
to the bathroom and take another snort. time is fractured and making itself
known in barely perceived lapses. in-between I am somewhere else but I don't
know where. things, lamps, walls, chairs, are there and then they vanish only
to reappear moments later, leaving me wondering where they came from. I feel
incredibly strong.physically. My mind is a puzzle that is trying to complete
itself and getting nowhere.
"Taylor Caldwell once said that this is the smallest, meanest planet in the
universe."
.did she say that? .did I hear her right?
lucy?
"Let's shower-shower."
.the water is falling like jewels that melt on our bodies. Lucy's tits hang
like silky vanilla blimps before me.the soap.stings.and she's sliding down my
body.
."I want to. Let me, please, Max."
.sliding to her knees, her arms around my waist, pulling me toward her. the
falling spray of water sings a song around us. colors are dancing in day-glo
patterns. her tongue.pulling me.lips.mouth.kneeling in the
tub.come.wickedly.water singing.colors dancing.tonguelipsmouth.come
wickedly.wickedly.wickedly.
.and now I hold her ample flesh in my arms.mouths sucking, tongues
fenseing.vasiline coated pipe, water forms on it like glass bubbles.sausage.
"Max, what are you doing?"
.for lucy.
"What?"
.so that the heavens will know.I.sac.aaron is with thee.gently.gently I turn her
around and guide her to her knees, I behind her.on her elbows.. and the probe
finds her puckered flesh and enters as she groans in womanly submission.
jlnavarro: http://tuvo_13.tripod.com/books/
------------------
Live to trip, trip to LIVE
(This is a chapter excerpt from A LITTLE BIT OF MADNESS. This and other books
can be found on my website. See URL below.)
From the medicine cabinet I take a pair of toenail clippers and cut a three-inch
piece of straw off the shaft. Next, I unfold the aluminum foil, exposing the
white ball of compressed crystals, pinching a bit off and crumbling in into as
fine a powder as possible onto the counter top next to the sink. I'm in doubt
as to how much to take, but fashion a line approximately the amount I saw them
use on the tape. Stuffing the rest into my shirt pocket, I bend down and, straw
up my nose, free hand pressing shut the unoccupied nostril, I waft in the line
as cleanly as a vacuum cleaner.
I stand there looking at myself in the mirror, waiting. Waiting for euphoria,
Eros, waiting for God knows what. I put the straw in my shirt pocket and decide
to join Lucy in the bedroom. No sooner do I open the bathroom door than the
first not unpleasant waves of the drug begin to course my mind. The lines and
curves and surfaces of the apartment seem to be undulating as if they were
components in an intangible mirage, wanting to dissolve but kept there by the
sheer will of whatever inherent strength their molecules give them.
As I walk into the hall, objects, things, are there and also inexplicably
elsewhere other than where they should be, and I am moving with them, here and
there, rearranging ourselves in other overlapping locations. I am not moving.
"Max, what are you doing?"
"What?"
"You've been standing there for ten minutes."
I was unaware of it, but I am standing at the bedroom door, marveling now at my
voice that has acquired a basso quality added to an echo-like resonance. My
response wasn't "What?" It was "What-what?" .though the word was only spoken
once.
"What are you doing standing there?"
"I don't know-don't know."
"Get in bed."
As I step into the bedroom, I seem to be dissolving and almost instantaneously
being put back together. When I find myself in bed next to Lucy, I am still
walking toward us. The only light in the room is coming from the hallway, and
the night that is peeking in from the bedroom window like a curious voyeur.
Shadows are giving off beams of some metaphysical substance not unlike the
sensations of LSD. But this drug is vastly different.
"Why are you-you."
"What?"
"Why-why are you."
"Max, what's the matter with you?"
Why can't she understand what I'm trying to tell her? I want to know why she's
still dressed. .I think of putting my hand up between her thighs and find that
it is already there, inching her flimsy underwear off her huge fleshy bottom.
She seems to have grown enormous next to me as if I'm shrinking. Outside of
myself, outside the apartment I hear the cosmos clashing with itself in
perpetual, unceasing, violently needed warfare. The silent universe has opened
up its chaotic harmonies to me. I am outside of myself while my hand is
drenched with Lucy's yoni juice and I'm outside.outside somewhere in some
unknown weird dimension listening to the clamoring fugue of the savage universe.
And while I am there, wherever that may be, I am simultaneously suckling on
Lucy's breast, aware of hard lingam desiring to burst forth, feeling large and
vital. The odor of sex juice slithers from cunt to engulf the room, the
apartment, the whole world. I am with the mother of all mothers and whores, of
all nuns, of all shriveled saintly virgins that ever were or ever will be. Lucy
is the essence of Woman and my mouth is as dry as a parched autumn leaf and now
I feel my tongue lapping at the oceanic cunt fluid while a mental part of me
scuttles up into her, her womb, and I know in a brief, deft stroke the meaning
of all creation, the meaninglessness of evil and the absolute necessity of the
unceasing, churning violence of the universe. All this in one mental flash,
without words, without any appended explanation. Lucy and I are two living
enigmas explaining each other to ourselves without the crude utterance of
speech. I am at the mountains of madness and at the plains of unblemished
reason where knowledge transcends even thought itself. It is simply knowing.
Lucy is groaning and I'm sucking and flicking my tongue up her yoni, rasping it
over her swollen clit, her white fleshy thighs winged out like tilted pillars
until I have had my full and I clime up naked onto her nakedness, her
marshmallow soft body, and enter her and hear her moan a sound that dances in
the room.slowly, slowly and deeply I go into her, sex whispering between us,
sloshing, sticky syrup.and we come.and then again we come, without stopping,
without losing rhythm while infinity spins caustically around us, our bodies and
our spirits in communion with the vastness of the universe.
I can see her ghost dancing in her flesh. I can hear her body singing. I can
feel the joy of her flesh overflowing her heart. And I can feel the deadness of
my own carnality. Though I breathe and feel the blood flowing through my veins,
I am a corpse in motion.thick, gorged thing preening her inner tissue, an
unsealing wound, wanton and starved, hopelessly in need of illusive satisfaction
in cannot fully obtain.her gapping love hole, again, swallowing me.
."Wait here-here." I roll off, slip into my shirt, and head for the john while
other parts of me go in different directions...
.Two hardboiled eggs with painted irises and pupils stare at me in the mirror.
Every color in the bright light of the room is screaming for narcissistic
attention in their iridescent glow. In the mirror, I look at myself and appear
as if I have lost twenty pounds. My face is gaunt and sharp-sharp featured as
if it had been pressed like clay in an unseen, unheard, unfelt vise. My eyes
are enormous things sucking in reality. An insane impulse to rip them out of my
head comes to mind mindlessly. I suppress the thought, the desire, and am
curious as to the deadened quality of my flesh. I look more than ever in this
glaring light like a living corpse. My arms are brittle sticks. My lingam,
stiff and glistening, is the only piece of me that looks alive. I am going
bald before my hardboiled eyes. My hair has vanished halfway over my scalp, and
just as quickly new hair grows in.
.Flashes of light like multi-colored fireflies dance outside the bathroom
window. My hair has grown like a bush on my head, unruly, and standing on end.
A siren is wailing somewhere in the city and I know it is on its way to deliver
a soul that is agonizingly seeping out of a blood washed piece of mangled meat.
.I line the crystals on the counter in a two-inch crease, poke the straw in my
nose and inhale the thin cord in one quick take. In the mirror I see a dead man
moving, cannot believe that it is me.
"Max!"
"Wait-wait." .and the words echo on into infinity.
.I linger there until the calming effect has come over me before I go into the
bedroom. I take a step toward the door and without realizing it I have walked
three yards. .In the bedroom, I hear myself laughing in the hallway. .Lucy is
looking at me with curiosity, lying on her side, her thighs together. My eyes
are drinking in her image, her naked flesh, and I stiffen all the more, bobbing
like a searching antenna as I walk toward her.
I smell like the chemical that has gone up my nose and the room smells like sex
sauce. I'm advancing toward the bed in slow-mo, then kneeling on the mattress,
parting thick thighs. one huge, globular breast is jammed in my mouth and I am
again caressing her woman-flesh. deeply in her, I stand away in the room
looking at us.and quickly I'm in my skull again, my soul hugging my bones.
shadows are in the room, hovering, curious and silent. They come over us like
darkened clouds, wave around like transparent banners, aware that I am aware of
them, though I know not who or what they are. Lucy is quiet, her body in
motion, her face anguished and pained and she moves slower than time and the
calm undulating sea, slower still than memories of the past. fleetingly, I have
difficulty remembering who I am and what I'm doing, and when I do I have just
relieved the last nanosecond of eternity.
."Max." She sounds as if she were at the bottom of a deep valley.and then her
utterance is meaningless.sound without definition.garbled noise.and I'm plunging
into her in a strange eerie time warp.condemned.
."Max."
"What-what?"
"Go put on some Vaseline. I'm getting dry."
.in the bedroom I look at myself, lobster red, obscenely ugly, pendulous and
gorged like some lewd snake coiling out of me. I stare for God knows how
long.time does not exist; it has contrived a different way to exercise its
function. It is a state of mind that is constantly disintegrating and piecing
itself together.
"Max! What are you doing?"
"I'm looking." Did I say that?
"What have you been taking? Look at your face!"
.i see myself in the mirror. my eyes are still very large, the whites look as
if they are curdling. but I no longer look like a corpse. i have turned to
wax. even my hair is waxy, stiff. my flesh feels smooth and soft and my bones
feel as if I could bend them like willow sticks or tie them in a knot.
"Max! What are you doing?" Lucy is standing naked at the doorway. "Look at
your face!"
".my cock."
"Put some Vaseline on."
.I see myself in the mirror. My mouth feels like a tortoise shell in a drought.
For a moment, disappointingly, I feel as if I'm going to be normal again. As I
lead Lucy to the living room to mix some drinks, the unreality begins to come
back like a tide of madness, and my mind welcomes the return of this chemical
insanity, because I know that I am insane, though artificially, I am truly and
irrevocably insane.
"Do you know that we've been fucking for the last three hours," Lucy says. It
could have been ten minutes, a decade, for all I know. The fizzing cola in her
drink, misting over the rim, are exploding diamonds. "What did you take, Max?"
"Something-thing."
"What was it?"
.yoni juice.
"You're spending the night, aren't you?"
.eternity.
"I don't want you driving in your condition."
."Something-thing."
"What was it?"
"I'm not sure......sure."
"You're spending the night, aren't you?"
.tomorrow.
".I don't want you driving."
.diamonds are exploding.
"What did you take?"
"Hardboiled eggs-eggs."
"What?"
".Look at your face!"
.bald............head..
"Put some Vaseline on."
"My cock."
"I'm getting dry."
".what are you doing.?"
.for all eterni.
"Max!"
.in the dimness we sit in the living room.
"What was it?"
.naked, drinking brandy.
.the cigarette is burning like a subdued lethargic sparkler in my hand. I don't
remember lighting it. .Lucy sips her drink, one opulent thigh crossed
comfortably over the other. She has the succulent, undulating body that the old
Masters used to love to paint.lots of flesh, not firm yet not totally flabby.
She sits there like a Bottecelli nude with breasts four times as large as any of
The Three Graces. .I want to shower. I am aware that a series of amnesias are
weaving through my mind like broken thread and I soon forget what I want.only to
remember seconds later.minutes later.
.my surroundings, everything, including myself has turned to colored wax. I go
to the bathroom and take another snort. time is fractured and making itself
known in barely perceived lapses. in-between I am somewhere else but I don't
know where. things, lamps, walls, chairs, are there and then they vanish only
to reappear moments later, leaving me wondering where they came from. I feel
incredibly strong.physically. My mind is a puzzle that is trying to complete
itself and getting nowhere.
"Taylor Caldwell once said that this is the smallest, meanest planet in the
universe."
.did she say that? .did I hear her right?
lucy?
"Let's shower-shower."
.the water is falling like jewels that melt on our bodies. Lucy's tits hang
like silky vanilla blimps before me.the soap.stings.and she's sliding down my
body.
."I want to. Let me, please, Max."
.sliding to her knees, her arms around my waist, pulling me toward her. the
falling spray of water sings a song around us. colors are dancing in day-glo
patterns. her tongue.pulling me.lips.mouth.kneeling in the
tub.come.wickedly.water singing.colors dancing.tonguelipsmouth.come
wickedly.wickedly.wickedly.
.and now I hold her ample flesh in my arms.mouths sucking, tongues
fenseing.vasiline coated pipe, water forms on it like glass bubbles.sausage.
"Max, what are you doing?"
.for lucy.
"What?"
.so that the heavens will know.I.sac.aaron is with thee.gently.gently I turn her
around and guide her to her knees, I behind her.on her elbows.. and the probe
finds her puckered flesh and enters as she groans in womanly submission.
jlnavarro: http://tuvo_13.tripod.com/books/
------------------
Live to trip, trip to LIVE
