Rexmonster
Bluelighter
Crack Cocaine-very experienced-Better Than Sex but Worse Than Satan
One day I was puffin Blunts with Nixon and Ford, when the watergate commission kicked down the door and demanded the missing tapes. Nixon tossed me one from off his desk right before they took him down. "Run you hippy bastard," he yelped feebly, so I dove out the window of the oval office and sprinted across the lawn into the heart of Americas greatest slum. (did I mention I was naked?) Anyway, I went home and listened to the tape; and this, word for word, is what the big man had to say:
Crack Cocaine is one of those drugs that changes lives. But when I say that it changes lives, I don't mean that lightly; for my fling with crack threw my life into a vicious cycle of self destruction and despair from which I have only just begun to recover.
I was 15 years old when I first smoked crack, and I remember it like it was just yesterday...
I was buying ounces of shiny, high quality yay and peddling them to the local hippy folk. And somehow I ended up in the living room of an old hippies trailer, watching him intently as he cooked up a ball of crack in a mason -jar. And before I knew what hit me, I put a bong to my lips and took a massive rip of the devils finest.
I held the hit in for what seemed like eternity, but in reality was only like 10 seconds. And before I could even exhale 'it' hit me; the most intense wave of indescribably orgasmic pleasure spread about my body, centering in my head and spreading into my extremities. My ears rang and my vision turned fuzzy. I had never felt this good in my entire life. Everything was perfect and I was on top of the world. I stood and ran my fingers through my hair. I looked at my crack out aquantance and muttered "oh my god..."
And that was the beginning of the end.
Crack was my new favorite lover.
That day I went home and cooked a teener of coke in an oversize spoon, and I didn't stop until all the coke was gone and my body cried for more.
And that night, before I drank myself to sleep, I vowed to only smoke rock on occasion.
And for a while it worked...
Of course I still had a nose like a hoover and an ever-escalating dope debt. But, hey, I was a junior in high school and I worked hard to have my own place and get back in school; I deserved a little fun goddamnit.
But all of a sudden, my supplier jetted the scene, leaving me with little options to sustain my lifestyle.
So I got in touch with some people who sold garbage smack and I started working small time for them, while in the meantime, I developed a healthy taste for heroin.
Around now, the school year was winding down, and I was consuming numerous drugs in such a fantastically hedonistic manner, that smoking crack had taken the back burner.
Until the summer started.
I obtained a couple new coke hook ups, and while they were all overpriced, I would have given my soul for another hit.
Crack addiction is a highly progressive vice, one that spreads about the mind ruthlessly; and if you let it, will missasticise(sp) into a malignant cancer that will ingest your very being.
Crack is evil. It is the cruel sacrament of the lowest fiends on the totem pole. And man is that shit expensive, whether or not you buy it on the street or make it yourself. Just remember that in a year and a half, I coulda bought a cadillac with all the crack I smoked.
Some people call the high a full body orgasm, others say it's better than sex. I say that it would make jesus a cold blooded killer and turn your mother to a whore. Oh, and man is that shit fun...
"Wait, shhhh..., I hear something..."
"Nevermind... maybe I dropped some on the carpet..."
"I must be going crazy..." (starts scavaging on the carpet for crumbs)
No matter what you smoke it out of or what drug you mix it with, nothing in this world will ever compare to that first hit of crack cocaine.
The more you smoke the shorter the peak. And the shorter the peak the more you smoke.
The peak will go from minutes to seconds, and even a second without crack is too long...
Soon the fiend will smoke a massive rock hit after hit, feebly searching for that all elusive and heavenly high that teeters precariously between the line of indescribable rhapsody and fatal over-indulgence...
Eventually I became a card- carrying Base Head. I lied, cheated, stole, and basically screwed over anyone in my path. And the more and more crack I smoked, the less fun it would be. By the end of the summer, each time I smoked crack I would get struck with a mindbending jolt of delusions and paranoia, but Nothing, not even sex, smack, or tweak could even begin to compare to that high.
I got to where I would have to do smack or drink or pop pills if I wanted sleep to even be an option. I wouldn't leave the house for up to a couple days, or until the crack was gone. I was smoking at least 3 or 4 grams a day, in addition to smoking/snorting chris and blowing lines.
I basically stopped going to school.
Eventually the money just ran out. The debts became threating to my health.
I had my first overdose one night in early August. I kept throwing whole grams in my regular pipe on top of weed and smoking them until my vision was solid white and my ears rang and pounded in my skull. I was pure pleasure. But I kept smoking and smoking until my chest locked up and I fell to the floor and shook violently for anywhere from a couple seconds to half a minute. All the blood in my body felt like it was being forced into my head and chest. I thought I was going to die. I was scared, but then I just accepted it and didn't really care. And then it was over.
And that night I smoked more crack...
That was one of three crack- induced seizures that I've been unfortunate enough to experience in my life. I once saw a friend seize up and nearly die on my floor.
But my habit kept escalating. The high was all that mattered. I would try and tweak instead of smoking rock, but I could only keep it up for very long.
By the time senior year started, I was strung as fuck. I dreamt about crack every night. I would think about crack more than pussy. (Very unhealthy for a 16 year old I might add...)
I couldn't commit myself to any sort of what could be possibly deemed a functioning relationship. (with anyone, women, friends or otherwise. Actually, I did get along well with my friends cat... but anyway...)
At first I loved to party on crack and to rock it up with other people. And then I just wanted to do it alone, hoping for a little smack to dullen the comedown or some chris to strech out the high.
(By the way, shrooms and crack is the most amazing combo EVER. Maybe I'll write up some more trip reports.)
Everyday my comedown would get worse and worse until sometimes I would just shake and cry and want to kill people. Now let me tell you, there is nothing worse than coming off a crack binge with no booze or opiates in sight.
And still my life got worse. I became a compulsive thief. I narrowly escaped jail on numerous occasions. I would rarely eat or sleep and I looked like a skeleton. I was delusional.
Everyone was out to get me.
To make a (very) long story short, I eventually (halfway through senior year) decided to kick the crack and heroin. Psycadelics and overdoses helped me come to the conclusion that I needed to quit. Everyone was worried about me and the shit just got to be less and less fun. Saying loaded was a full time job. Like many have said, it ain't easy being a junkie... So basically, I got myself into rehab, and then another one, and then a long term facility (not my choice). And now at age 18, I have 17 months crack free.
Since the first time I went to rehab, I have smoked pot once and blazed 5-meo-dmt twice. I have changed everything and moved away from my past. No more legal problems. No more crackwhores and dope debts.
My life is infinitely better. As if you give a damn...
I still get excited and anxious at the very thought of crack. You can only imagine how hard it was for me to write this report. Frankly, I have so much to say on the subject, it's just that right now I don't have the willpower to write a goddamn epic.
Anyway,some people don't like crack. And others love it more than life itself. Some can manage it. And chances are, that just like me, you won't be one of them...
Simply put, crack cocaine is too good to be true.
One day I was puffin Blunts with Nixon and Ford, when the watergate commission kicked down the door and demanded the missing tapes. Nixon tossed me one from off his desk right before they took him down. "Run you hippy bastard," he yelped feebly, so I dove out the window of the oval office and sprinted across the lawn into the heart of Americas greatest slum. (did I mention I was naked?) Anyway, I went home and listened to the tape; and this, word for word, is what the big man had to say:
Crack Cocaine is one of those drugs that changes lives. But when I say that it changes lives, I don't mean that lightly; for my fling with crack threw my life into a vicious cycle of self destruction and despair from which I have only just begun to recover.
I was 15 years old when I first smoked crack, and I remember it like it was just yesterday...
I was buying ounces of shiny, high quality yay and peddling them to the local hippy folk. And somehow I ended up in the living room of an old hippies trailer, watching him intently as he cooked up a ball of crack in a mason -jar. And before I knew what hit me, I put a bong to my lips and took a massive rip of the devils finest.
I held the hit in for what seemed like eternity, but in reality was only like 10 seconds. And before I could even exhale 'it' hit me; the most intense wave of indescribably orgasmic pleasure spread about my body, centering in my head and spreading into my extremities. My ears rang and my vision turned fuzzy. I had never felt this good in my entire life. Everything was perfect and I was on top of the world. I stood and ran my fingers through my hair. I looked at my crack out aquantance and muttered "oh my god..."
And that was the beginning of the end.
Crack was my new favorite lover.
That day I went home and cooked a teener of coke in an oversize spoon, and I didn't stop until all the coke was gone and my body cried for more.
And that night, before I drank myself to sleep, I vowed to only smoke rock on occasion.
And for a while it worked...
Of course I still had a nose like a hoover and an ever-escalating dope debt. But, hey, I was a junior in high school and I worked hard to have my own place and get back in school; I deserved a little fun goddamnit.
But all of a sudden, my supplier jetted the scene, leaving me with little options to sustain my lifestyle.
So I got in touch with some people who sold garbage smack and I started working small time for them, while in the meantime, I developed a healthy taste for heroin.
Around now, the school year was winding down, and I was consuming numerous drugs in such a fantastically hedonistic manner, that smoking crack had taken the back burner.
Until the summer started.
I obtained a couple new coke hook ups, and while they were all overpriced, I would have given my soul for another hit.
Crack addiction is a highly progressive vice, one that spreads about the mind ruthlessly; and if you let it, will missasticise(sp) into a malignant cancer that will ingest your very being.
Crack is evil. It is the cruel sacrament of the lowest fiends on the totem pole. And man is that shit expensive, whether or not you buy it on the street or make it yourself. Just remember that in a year and a half, I coulda bought a cadillac with all the crack I smoked.
Some people call the high a full body orgasm, others say it's better than sex. I say that it would make jesus a cold blooded killer and turn your mother to a whore. Oh, and man is that shit fun...
"Wait, shhhh..., I hear something..."
"Nevermind... maybe I dropped some on the carpet..."
"I must be going crazy..." (starts scavaging on the carpet for crumbs)
No matter what you smoke it out of or what drug you mix it with, nothing in this world will ever compare to that first hit of crack cocaine.
The more you smoke the shorter the peak. And the shorter the peak the more you smoke.
The peak will go from minutes to seconds, and even a second without crack is too long...
Soon the fiend will smoke a massive rock hit after hit, feebly searching for that all elusive and heavenly high that teeters precariously between the line of indescribable rhapsody and fatal over-indulgence...
Eventually I became a card- carrying Base Head. I lied, cheated, stole, and basically screwed over anyone in my path. And the more and more crack I smoked, the less fun it would be. By the end of the summer, each time I smoked crack I would get struck with a mindbending jolt of delusions and paranoia, but Nothing, not even sex, smack, or tweak could even begin to compare to that high.
I got to where I would have to do smack or drink or pop pills if I wanted sleep to even be an option. I wouldn't leave the house for up to a couple days, or until the crack was gone. I was smoking at least 3 or 4 grams a day, in addition to smoking/snorting chris and blowing lines.
I basically stopped going to school.
Eventually the money just ran out. The debts became threating to my health.
I had my first overdose one night in early August. I kept throwing whole grams in my regular pipe on top of weed and smoking them until my vision was solid white and my ears rang and pounded in my skull. I was pure pleasure. But I kept smoking and smoking until my chest locked up and I fell to the floor and shook violently for anywhere from a couple seconds to half a minute. All the blood in my body felt like it was being forced into my head and chest. I thought I was going to die. I was scared, but then I just accepted it and didn't really care. And then it was over.
And that night I smoked more crack...
That was one of three crack- induced seizures that I've been unfortunate enough to experience in my life. I once saw a friend seize up and nearly die on my floor.
But my habit kept escalating. The high was all that mattered. I would try and tweak instead of smoking rock, but I could only keep it up for very long.
By the time senior year started, I was strung as fuck. I dreamt about crack every night. I would think about crack more than pussy. (Very unhealthy for a 16 year old I might add...)
I couldn't commit myself to any sort of what could be possibly deemed a functioning relationship. (with anyone, women, friends or otherwise. Actually, I did get along well with my friends cat... but anyway...)
At first I loved to party on crack and to rock it up with other people. And then I just wanted to do it alone, hoping for a little smack to dullen the comedown or some chris to strech out the high.
(By the way, shrooms and crack is the most amazing combo EVER. Maybe I'll write up some more trip reports.)
Everyday my comedown would get worse and worse until sometimes I would just shake and cry and want to kill people. Now let me tell you, there is nothing worse than coming off a crack binge with no booze or opiates in sight.
And still my life got worse. I became a compulsive thief. I narrowly escaped jail on numerous occasions. I would rarely eat or sleep and I looked like a skeleton. I was delusional.
Everyone was out to get me.
To make a (very) long story short, I eventually (halfway through senior year) decided to kick the crack and heroin. Psycadelics and overdoses helped me come to the conclusion that I needed to quit. Everyone was worried about me and the shit just got to be less and less fun. Saying loaded was a full time job. Like many have said, it ain't easy being a junkie... So basically, I got myself into rehab, and then another one, and then a long term facility (not my choice). And now at age 18, I have 17 months crack free.
Since the first time I went to rehab, I have smoked pot once and blazed 5-meo-dmt twice. I have changed everything and moved away from my past. No more legal problems. No more crackwhores and dope debts.
My life is infinitely better. As if you give a damn...
I still get excited and anxious at the very thought of crack. You can only imagine how hard it was for me to write this report. Frankly, I have so much to say on the subject, it's just that right now I don't have the willpower to write a goddamn epic.
Anyway,some people don't like crack. And others love it more than life itself. Some can manage it. And chances are, that just like me, you won't be one of them...
Simply put, crack cocaine is too good to be true.
)
