ToxicFerret
Bluelighter
I've had experience with benxos, opiates, weed, shrooms, and a bunch of pharm shit. I went into this in a pretty good mood, since I'd just left band practice for drum lessons, and music is pretty much my life.
I came home from drum lessons at about 3. I had to take some clothes out of the wash because there was nothing to wear, and about an hour later I left. This was one of those summer days where its cloudy enough that the sun doesn’t fry you to death, and breezy enough to be comfortable despite the humidity. I traveled up to me dealers house and he gave me a few grams of some nice Californian weed with orange hairs and a good amount of crystals. After a rather long ride groovin with my ipod I met my friends Elly and Paris at a restaurant. They were sitting there smoking and eating, and after a small meal we left. The night before, we had decided to go to an open mic that was taking place at the local music store, and my friend Steve picked us up in the car. We parked in a school parking lot, and as I had no bowl I rolled some ciggajoints, as my friends call them. I apparently have wicked ciggajoint rolling skills, so everybody calls on me when we need some way to smoke pot.
Elly and Paris had brought Jack Daniels and vodka of some sort, and they started drinking while my other friends arrived. The girls went to get some orange juice to mix with and me and Steve sat back for a while and just talked shit for a while. He’s pretty new to my circle of friends and I’ve decided that guys pretty fuckin awesome, so we just sat and listened to Generation X and Choking victim and talked about the local punk scene. The girls came back at the same time as my friends Alex and Stu showed up. Stu had gotten about four hours of sleep, hadn’t eaten, and had been drunk at work earlier and this all figured into the coming events. He had brought 120 mg of XR adderall, so me and Paris went to do 20 mg each. We couldnt find anywhere to crush the beads to snort it so we crove around in Steve’s car in the back trying to crush and snort it. This failed so we decided to go to open mic.
We showed up at about 8, and the place was dead. Almost noone had known itd been rescheduled to that night so I decided it was time to liven things up with the adderall. I went in the bathroom and crushed the beads down into orangy powder. Now personally, I love snorting drugs, regardless of the burn and the drip. That good old reinforced behavior of putting something up my nose to get high is almost a high in and of itself. It’s so Pavlovian, but I just feel awesome all over when I know I’ll be high in ten minutes or so. Adderall is better to snort still, because the drip tastes sweet actually.
Paris and I came out of the bathrooms and we walked out and went to Steve’s car. Here’s where the trip began, at least for me. About halfway there I felt goosebumps break out all up and down my body in waves, and my eyes shot open and everything became clear as crystal. That delicious burst of energy that stimulants provide washed over my mind, and I lost all fear, all doubt. Steve and I talk, and we decide that tonight’s the night to go to the beach, since we have more booze, pot, and addies. We drive through the thick Chicago traffic and arrive at his house, about a block from the lake. After a trip to the store to buy smokes, we head to the beach. I later discovered that this is the beach that will play stage to my chemical adventures later this year, because its absolutely beautiful there.
Here’s where it becomes apparent that we have a problem. Stu is stumbling around, getting altogether too near to the cars on the street for comfort. I don’t drink because alcohol turns me into a blithering idiot, and Stu was very obviously in that fuzzy place, where the world is underwater and your name is too complicated to speak correctly. We had to hold him up by the arms to cross the street, and getting him over the sand was absolute hell. We finally sit down on the rocks.
“So. Let’s do some drugs.”
I don’t remember who said it, in fact I doubt anybody does, but we all reached for ciggajoints, booze, and cigarettes. The night was beautiful, and there was fog covering the horizon. The sky and the lake seemed to bleed together and run like ink. We lit our ciggajoints and breathed in the scratchy smoke, and the night took on a different character.
Up until now, I had only had adderall, so I was hot and sweaty and my face crawled with goosebumps every time I took a drag of a cigarette. A few minutes after smoking the ciggajoint, the world started to change. This was some powerful weed, not the pushy indica-dominant schwag that could knock out a horse that we can get from the south side, but the friendly sativa my dealer often carries that sorta knocks on the door to your mind. If you feel like it, you can let the good vibes in and enjoy the enhanced colors and weird progressions of thought, but you can keep it out if you need to act straight.
I let the friendly sativa in, and I jumped up and started dancing to Streetlight Manifesto on my ipod. The sky was pitch black and the sand resembled nothing so much as the cratered surface of the moon. The edge of the water was the end of the line, a void stretching into infinity away from the pockmarked moonscape. I put on some Alkaline Trio and sang for everyone, and we decided next time we came we needed those nifty ipod speakers, somehow ignoring the need for an outlet.
The girls were good and drunk now, though they werent as bad as Stu. He was curled up on the sand, and as I was watching from the corner of my eye he staggered to his knees and threw up in the sand. Apparently after he threw up he got into Paris’s bag and took more vodka, and soon he was passed out.
About thirty minutes after we smoked, those first notes in the song that is a marijuana high faded, and it retreated to a sort of background high, keeping us silly and lighthearted. I decided to walk along the beach with Paris. We got to listening to more Trio and talking about old times (we used to date). As the fog retreated from the lake and the edge between the world and the sky sharpened and came into view, we slowdanced to the chords of Alkaline Trio’s song ‘97. We leaned into the wind as still more waves of adderall goosebumps shot down from our heads to our toes, reminding us that the night was still young.
Paris and I had been chain-smoking and we’d run out of cigarettes, so we had to rejoin the group. Steve and Elly were somewhere making out, and Alex’s boyfriend Andy had showed up, and they were talking with Julia. Julia needed to get to her place to crash (it was about 11 now), so we called over Elly and Steve over, woke up Stu and packed our shit up. This was a good idea as the cops arrived just seconds later to kick us off the beach and search for beverages of an alcoholic nature. Stu seemed sober while they were talking to us, but the minutes they left he swayed and seemed to go a bit limp again, and went off to throw up again.
The night seemed to be ending anticlimactically. Paris and I went to the el station and took a train down to my house. We went to my neighborhood and stopped at a local hookah bar and stayed for a few minutes talking to some kids we knew and enjoying the hookahs. Hookah’s seem to provide a different nicotine buzz for me than cigarettes do. Maybe it’s the huge hits of tobacco, maybe it’s my imagination, but they seem to be much more relaxing, and hookah tobacco synergizes even better with drugs than cigarette tobacco. When it was time to go we said out goodbyes and walked to the bus stop. We stayed outside my place for about thirty minutes, just chain-smoking and enjoying the last dying chord of the evening as the moon came out above us. I walked her to the bus at 1230 or so, and then walked home and typed this up.
So That was a great night basically. I adore amphetamines and weed equally, and I love the feeling I get when I go through packs of cigarettes when I’m tweaking a bit, even though the combo of nicotine and amphetamines is probably bad for the heart. Better still than the drugs were the people. I’ve been making new friends lately, but I’ve been able to keep the old ones as well, like Paris. I’ve found this group, and we just seem to work well together. If shit goes right we’ll stick together for the summer, and as I said before the beach will be the site of much drug usage later this year. I don’t think this report accurately describes just how ridiculously drunk Stu was, or how beautiful the night was, but I think it gives some idea of how good it can feel to be with nice people under the influence of nice drugs.
I came home from drum lessons at about 3. I had to take some clothes out of the wash because there was nothing to wear, and about an hour later I left. This was one of those summer days where its cloudy enough that the sun doesn’t fry you to death, and breezy enough to be comfortable despite the humidity. I traveled up to me dealers house and he gave me a few grams of some nice Californian weed with orange hairs and a good amount of crystals. After a rather long ride groovin with my ipod I met my friends Elly and Paris at a restaurant. They were sitting there smoking and eating, and after a small meal we left. The night before, we had decided to go to an open mic that was taking place at the local music store, and my friend Steve picked us up in the car. We parked in a school parking lot, and as I had no bowl I rolled some ciggajoints, as my friends call them. I apparently have wicked ciggajoint rolling skills, so everybody calls on me when we need some way to smoke pot.
Elly and Paris had brought Jack Daniels and vodka of some sort, and they started drinking while my other friends arrived. The girls went to get some orange juice to mix with and me and Steve sat back for a while and just talked shit for a while. He’s pretty new to my circle of friends and I’ve decided that guys pretty fuckin awesome, so we just sat and listened to Generation X and Choking victim and talked about the local punk scene. The girls came back at the same time as my friends Alex and Stu showed up. Stu had gotten about four hours of sleep, hadn’t eaten, and had been drunk at work earlier and this all figured into the coming events. He had brought 120 mg of XR adderall, so me and Paris went to do 20 mg each. We couldnt find anywhere to crush the beads to snort it so we crove around in Steve’s car in the back trying to crush and snort it. This failed so we decided to go to open mic.
We showed up at about 8, and the place was dead. Almost noone had known itd been rescheduled to that night so I decided it was time to liven things up with the adderall. I went in the bathroom and crushed the beads down into orangy powder. Now personally, I love snorting drugs, regardless of the burn and the drip. That good old reinforced behavior of putting something up my nose to get high is almost a high in and of itself. It’s so Pavlovian, but I just feel awesome all over when I know I’ll be high in ten minutes or so. Adderall is better to snort still, because the drip tastes sweet actually.
Paris and I came out of the bathrooms and we walked out and went to Steve’s car. Here’s where the trip began, at least for me. About halfway there I felt goosebumps break out all up and down my body in waves, and my eyes shot open and everything became clear as crystal. That delicious burst of energy that stimulants provide washed over my mind, and I lost all fear, all doubt. Steve and I talk, and we decide that tonight’s the night to go to the beach, since we have more booze, pot, and addies. We drive through the thick Chicago traffic and arrive at his house, about a block from the lake. After a trip to the store to buy smokes, we head to the beach. I later discovered that this is the beach that will play stage to my chemical adventures later this year, because its absolutely beautiful there.
Here’s where it becomes apparent that we have a problem. Stu is stumbling around, getting altogether too near to the cars on the street for comfort. I don’t drink because alcohol turns me into a blithering idiot, and Stu was very obviously in that fuzzy place, where the world is underwater and your name is too complicated to speak correctly. We had to hold him up by the arms to cross the street, and getting him over the sand was absolute hell. We finally sit down on the rocks.
“So. Let’s do some drugs.”
I don’t remember who said it, in fact I doubt anybody does, but we all reached for ciggajoints, booze, and cigarettes. The night was beautiful, and there was fog covering the horizon. The sky and the lake seemed to bleed together and run like ink. We lit our ciggajoints and breathed in the scratchy smoke, and the night took on a different character.
Up until now, I had only had adderall, so I was hot and sweaty and my face crawled with goosebumps every time I took a drag of a cigarette. A few minutes after smoking the ciggajoint, the world started to change. This was some powerful weed, not the pushy indica-dominant schwag that could knock out a horse that we can get from the south side, but the friendly sativa my dealer often carries that sorta knocks on the door to your mind. If you feel like it, you can let the good vibes in and enjoy the enhanced colors and weird progressions of thought, but you can keep it out if you need to act straight.
I let the friendly sativa in, and I jumped up and started dancing to Streetlight Manifesto on my ipod. The sky was pitch black and the sand resembled nothing so much as the cratered surface of the moon. The edge of the water was the end of the line, a void stretching into infinity away from the pockmarked moonscape. I put on some Alkaline Trio and sang for everyone, and we decided next time we came we needed those nifty ipod speakers, somehow ignoring the need for an outlet.
The girls were good and drunk now, though they werent as bad as Stu. He was curled up on the sand, and as I was watching from the corner of my eye he staggered to his knees and threw up in the sand. Apparently after he threw up he got into Paris’s bag and took more vodka, and soon he was passed out.
About thirty minutes after we smoked, those first notes in the song that is a marijuana high faded, and it retreated to a sort of background high, keeping us silly and lighthearted. I decided to walk along the beach with Paris. We got to listening to more Trio and talking about old times (we used to date). As the fog retreated from the lake and the edge between the world and the sky sharpened and came into view, we slowdanced to the chords of Alkaline Trio’s song ‘97. We leaned into the wind as still more waves of adderall goosebumps shot down from our heads to our toes, reminding us that the night was still young.
Paris and I had been chain-smoking and we’d run out of cigarettes, so we had to rejoin the group. Steve and Elly were somewhere making out, and Alex’s boyfriend Andy had showed up, and they were talking with Julia. Julia needed to get to her place to crash (it was about 11 now), so we called over Elly and Steve over, woke up Stu and packed our shit up. This was a good idea as the cops arrived just seconds later to kick us off the beach and search for beverages of an alcoholic nature. Stu seemed sober while they were talking to us, but the minutes they left he swayed and seemed to go a bit limp again, and went off to throw up again.
The night seemed to be ending anticlimactically. Paris and I went to the el station and took a train down to my house. We went to my neighborhood and stopped at a local hookah bar and stayed for a few minutes talking to some kids we knew and enjoying the hookahs. Hookah’s seem to provide a different nicotine buzz for me than cigarettes do. Maybe it’s the huge hits of tobacco, maybe it’s my imagination, but they seem to be much more relaxing, and hookah tobacco synergizes even better with drugs than cigarette tobacco. When it was time to go we said out goodbyes and walked to the bus stop. We stayed outside my place for about thirty minutes, just chain-smoking and enjoying the last dying chord of the evening as the moon came out above us. I walked her to the bus at 1230 or so, and then walked home and typed this up.
So That was a great night basically. I adore amphetamines and weed equally, and I love the feeling I get when I go through packs of cigarettes when I’m tweaking a bit, even though the combo of nicotine and amphetamines is probably bad for the heart. Better still than the drugs were the people. I’ve been making new friends lately, but I’ve been able to keep the old ones as well, like Paris. I’ve found this group, and we just seem to work well together. If shit goes right we’ll stick together for the summer, and as I said before the beach will be the site of much drug usage later this year. I don’t think this report accurately describes just how ridiculously drunk Stu was, or how beautiful the night was, but I think it gives some idea of how good it can feel to be with nice people under the influence of nice drugs.
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