advice dog
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Oct 24, 2008
- Messages
- 34
After consuming alcohol, xanax, and resin i was able to scrape out of my glass sherlock pipe i decided to write about my non-drug related bout of depersonalization that i experienced last summer. Here it is, let me know what you all think. ideas for continuation are welcome (i cut it short because i'm getting very sleepy) - i apologize for any typos i haven't caught. I'm a bit out of it 
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It was a day or two after I had my heart squeezed until it burst by the most important, and virtually only woman in my life; it had started to scab over and heal. Day by day two. They say you should focus on doing something positive for yourself, whether it be conquering new pussy, spending more time with your friends, hitting up the gym to slim your fat ass a little bit, or working on some piece of shit car that will still look AND drive like shit after you restore it. Fucking classic car lovers.
Anyways it was around 11:30pm when it happened. I was sitting on one of the two elongated steps jutting out of the front of Rick's door, with my brother, who is terrified of strangers (and the dark) and social interaction in general, standing to the right of me, awkwardly holding his arms and staring at the ground.
They can't see you if you can't seem them, you know?
My friends Chris and Rick were discussing our mutual friend Andy's little college fuck up.
"yeah man, andy's fuckin up right now. its like, he doesnt even give a shit dude, and his parents you know, his dad- he works two jobs now to pay for his school, at Carlmont as a teacher and now at macys doing some shit, i dont even know, but yeah man he's fuckin up."
"wow. so what, does he just smoke pot and drink all the time?"
"yeah dude, he just smokes and shit and is like 'fuck class.' he's so short-sighted dude. he gets high all day and then drinks whenever he can and doesnt realize that he's gonna end up getting kicked out or some shit, which is exactly what happened. and now he's trying to play it off to his parents like he's still going to school there - dude, he said he was gonna go to a community college and live in an apartment and just not tell his parents."
"wouldn't they realize they werent getting anymore bills from U o P?"
"dude yeah i know they would. which is why i think what he's doing is so fuckin' stupid."
Rick took one last rip from his cigarette and tossed it into the well-trimmed bushes lining his suburban model home, watching the last trail of smoke dissipate into the warm California breeze.
So then I say "Chris...do you wanna bounce man? It's pretty late and i have to get up early."
"Uhhhhh sure yeah. Good seein you nigga, we should hang out sometime this week," says Chris. Rick responds accordingly.
My brother grumbles something unintelligible and we pile into my car.
I put the key into the slot in the center console, which, by the way - is a fucking retarded place to put the ignition. Fuck you Swedish Saab cocks and your "quirky" ways of car design. Swedish cocks aside, the 2.0 Liter turbocharged engine sprang to life, emitting a pleasant chug as I flipped a u-turn and accelerated onto Silver County Boulevard.
I just couldn't get her out of my mind. Had she met someone else? What, exactly, did I do wrong? Scenarios play out in my mind constantly.The past two days I've been obsessing; I've been sobbing and anxiety-ridden like never before and I feel like life is no longer worth living. In other words, I was an addict forced to go cold turkey off of my drug of choice.
I made a left turn onto Almond, and then it happened.
A divider erected itself in my consciousness. Just. Like. That. I was seeing myself through a film; "I" was no longer able to control "my" thoughts, emotions or physical actions. A feeling of panic began to spread throughout my body as I steered my car down the winding road to my home.
Autopilot, engaged.
The sensation lingered. Days, and then weeks later, I began to worry incessantly about my self-concept. Who was I? I knew of my prior self. I knew that something was wrong, and I took comfort in that fact. You know you've gone into the deep end plus a few feet when you don't realize something is very, VERY wrong.
I drove to Santa Cruz that summer. Multiple times. I don't recall making the drives. During a night of chemical debauchery on one particular trip , I made out with a fine ass Asian girl with supple breasts and a firm, athletic ass. "I" was in the passenger seat as I slid a hand down the small of her back and onto the curve of her ass and pulled her bare chest closer to mine with the other. I heard her gentle exhale of pleasure through the ears of another.
I functioned in life just fine; I made good grades, picked up a couple new friends at school, and continued to take my boxing training seriously, although social interactions became slightly more difficult than they already were for me.
And then I discovered marijuana.
The rest of this story, for now, is up in scattered smoke somewhere.
=================================================
It was a day or two after I had my heart squeezed until it burst by the most important, and virtually only woman in my life; it had started to scab over and heal. Day by day two. They say you should focus on doing something positive for yourself, whether it be conquering new pussy, spending more time with your friends, hitting up the gym to slim your fat ass a little bit, or working on some piece of shit car that will still look AND drive like shit after you restore it. Fucking classic car lovers.
Anyways it was around 11:30pm when it happened. I was sitting on one of the two elongated steps jutting out of the front of Rick's door, with my brother, who is terrified of strangers (and the dark) and social interaction in general, standing to the right of me, awkwardly holding his arms and staring at the ground.
They can't see you if you can't seem them, you know?
My friends Chris and Rick were discussing our mutual friend Andy's little college fuck up.
"yeah man, andy's fuckin up right now. its like, he doesnt even give a shit dude, and his parents you know, his dad- he works two jobs now to pay for his school, at Carlmont as a teacher and now at macys doing some shit, i dont even know, but yeah man he's fuckin up."
"wow. so what, does he just smoke pot and drink all the time?"
"yeah dude, he just smokes and shit and is like 'fuck class.' he's so short-sighted dude. he gets high all day and then drinks whenever he can and doesnt realize that he's gonna end up getting kicked out or some shit, which is exactly what happened. and now he's trying to play it off to his parents like he's still going to school there - dude, he said he was gonna go to a community college and live in an apartment and just not tell his parents."
"wouldn't they realize they werent getting anymore bills from U o P?"
"dude yeah i know they would. which is why i think what he's doing is so fuckin' stupid."
Rick took one last rip from his cigarette and tossed it into the well-trimmed bushes lining his suburban model home, watching the last trail of smoke dissipate into the warm California breeze.
So then I say "Chris...do you wanna bounce man? It's pretty late and i have to get up early."
"Uhhhhh sure yeah. Good seein you nigga, we should hang out sometime this week," says Chris. Rick responds accordingly.
My brother grumbles something unintelligible and we pile into my car.
I put the key into the slot in the center console, which, by the way - is a fucking retarded place to put the ignition. Fuck you Swedish Saab cocks and your "quirky" ways of car design. Swedish cocks aside, the 2.0 Liter turbocharged engine sprang to life, emitting a pleasant chug as I flipped a u-turn and accelerated onto Silver County Boulevard.
I just couldn't get her out of my mind. Had she met someone else? What, exactly, did I do wrong? Scenarios play out in my mind constantly.The past two days I've been obsessing; I've been sobbing and anxiety-ridden like never before and I feel like life is no longer worth living. In other words, I was an addict forced to go cold turkey off of my drug of choice.
I made a left turn onto Almond, and then it happened.
A divider erected itself in my consciousness. Just. Like. That. I was seeing myself through a film; "I" was no longer able to control "my" thoughts, emotions or physical actions. A feeling of panic began to spread throughout my body as I steered my car down the winding road to my home.
Autopilot, engaged.
The sensation lingered. Days, and then weeks later, I began to worry incessantly about my self-concept. Who was I? I knew of my prior self. I knew that something was wrong, and I took comfort in that fact. You know you've gone into the deep end plus a few feet when you don't realize something is very, VERY wrong.
I drove to Santa Cruz that summer. Multiple times. I don't recall making the drives. During a night of chemical debauchery on one particular trip , I made out with a fine ass Asian girl with supple breasts and a firm, athletic ass. "I" was in the passenger seat as I slid a hand down the small of her back and onto the curve of her ass and pulled her bare chest closer to mine with the other. I heard her gentle exhale of pleasure through the ears of another.
I functioned in life just fine; I made good grades, picked up a couple new friends at school, and continued to take my boxing training seriously, although social interactions became slightly more difficult than they already were for me.
And then I discovered marijuana.
The rest of this story, for now, is up in scattered smoke somewhere.
