loumacari
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 24, 2013
- Messages
- 72
This happened a few years ago…
I got out of the tent, it was cold, I was colder, that familiar shiver ran down my body. Wearing my trainers like slippers, I got into the car and jacked up the heating. Everything I need was ready to go; gear, foil, hooter, lighter, gear on foil, click lighter, inhale. Straight away I started to feel well again. I normally don’t feel bad about smoking the gear, but here I was with good friends in a beautiful part of the country acting like a scuzzy junkie. Fuck, these people cared more for me that I cared for myself, if they saw me doing this it would probably be intervention time. But that’s another story, another time. The fact is, however deep your web of lies and deception, the gear will take that away, take that away and replace it with a blissful indifference.
So the five of us got up, for a campsite breakfast it wasn’t so bad; bacon, egg, some bread, a cup of tea. As the sun got higher in the sky we decided to drop the acid, it was strong, I’d taken some a few weeks before, but we’d all done plenty in the past so everyone was relaxed as we did a couple of drops straight onto the tongue. After a bit of faffing around getting our shit together; ciders, weed, the various other detritus that gets carried around, we headed off to climb this mountain/hill that overlooked the campsite and the beach.
So I guess maybe about half an hour, forty five minutes had passed as we laboured up this steep slope. I guess the physical exercise had got the blood pumping round my body as I began to get the familiar butterfly feeling in my stomach. I was happy; friends, nature and good drugs meant other problems in my life started to slide into the compartment of the brain marked, ‘some other fucking time’.
At the top of the hill we found this pill box sort of thing with a big concrete slab for a roof. After the slope we just flopped down. The various detritus started to come out. I drank a cider that seemed to fill my gut with goodness. ‘Are ciders one of your five a day?’ I asked to no one in particular, ‘Of course’ said someone, well at least I’m looking after myself I thought. I could tell everyone was starting to get high, laughing, jokes, the sea started to shimmer at the bottom of the slope.
I got up, my body felt stretchy, loose, I shook out my arms letting the tension escape. I started looking at one of my friends, she had always been good looking, but the acid seemed to help me visualise the beauty of her personality, she was emitting a sort of glow, a glow of goodness and light, she laughed as my gaze lingered a bit too long.
From the rock about a metre away this baby rabbit showed its head, sitting peacefully, seemingly eager to join our group, or maybe just eager for a bit of sun protected by our proximity from circling birds of prey. Whatever, it all added to my feeling of oneness. ‘What can we feed it?’ said someone, "well all we’ve got is some prawn cocktails crisps, and everyone knows rabbits love them!" Actually no, rabbits don’t love prawn cocktail flavour! The smell soon caused the little fella to be on his merry way. I was saddened by the thought that this sweet little creature would likely have a life shortened by the brutality of nature, but this was only transitory.
By now a few hours had passed and things were a little cold, so we decided to head back to the campsite. The acid was somewhat visual, tracers followed my arm as it moved about, but people’s faces were maintaining their solid form. Only when we re-entered the normality of human interaction at the campsite, did our state really start to come to the fore. You’re sure that people can spot you a mile off, single you out, highlight your deviation from normality, but in reality they don’t have a clue. As we bowled into the site, we laughed at the state of our bit of the campsite. While everyone else’s were neat and tidy, families out for a weekend in the country, ours looked like a pseudo pikey encampment. Fuck, we’d only been there a day and a bit, but cans, pot noodles all added to the flavour! The acid made this real funny and I was collapsing in laughter at our rubbish pit.
We laughed, joked, chatted, drank, smoked some weed and enjoyed each others company as the acid started to fade into the background.
The gear had been driven from my head all day but that wasn’t going to last forever. I began to start to think about where my next hit was coming from.
I got out of the tent, it was cold, I was colder, that familiar shiver ran down my body. Wearing my trainers like slippers, I got into the car and jacked up the heating. Everything I need was ready to go; gear, foil, hooter, lighter, gear on foil, click lighter, inhale. Straight away I started to feel well again. I normally don’t feel bad about smoking the gear, but here I was with good friends in a beautiful part of the country acting like a scuzzy junkie. Fuck, these people cared more for me that I cared for myself, if they saw me doing this it would probably be intervention time. But that’s another story, another time. The fact is, however deep your web of lies and deception, the gear will take that away, take that away and replace it with a blissful indifference.
So the five of us got up, for a campsite breakfast it wasn’t so bad; bacon, egg, some bread, a cup of tea. As the sun got higher in the sky we decided to drop the acid, it was strong, I’d taken some a few weeks before, but we’d all done plenty in the past so everyone was relaxed as we did a couple of drops straight onto the tongue. After a bit of faffing around getting our shit together; ciders, weed, the various other detritus that gets carried around, we headed off to climb this mountain/hill that overlooked the campsite and the beach.
So I guess maybe about half an hour, forty five minutes had passed as we laboured up this steep slope. I guess the physical exercise had got the blood pumping round my body as I began to get the familiar butterfly feeling in my stomach. I was happy; friends, nature and good drugs meant other problems in my life started to slide into the compartment of the brain marked, ‘some other fucking time’.
At the top of the hill we found this pill box sort of thing with a big concrete slab for a roof. After the slope we just flopped down. The various detritus started to come out. I drank a cider that seemed to fill my gut with goodness. ‘Are ciders one of your five a day?’ I asked to no one in particular, ‘Of course’ said someone, well at least I’m looking after myself I thought. I could tell everyone was starting to get high, laughing, jokes, the sea started to shimmer at the bottom of the slope.
I got up, my body felt stretchy, loose, I shook out my arms letting the tension escape. I started looking at one of my friends, she had always been good looking, but the acid seemed to help me visualise the beauty of her personality, she was emitting a sort of glow, a glow of goodness and light, she laughed as my gaze lingered a bit too long.
From the rock about a metre away this baby rabbit showed its head, sitting peacefully, seemingly eager to join our group, or maybe just eager for a bit of sun protected by our proximity from circling birds of prey. Whatever, it all added to my feeling of oneness. ‘What can we feed it?’ said someone, "well all we’ve got is some prawn cocktails crisps, and everyone knows rabbits love them!" Actually no, rabbits don’t love prawn cocktail flavour! The smell soon caused the little fella to be on his merry way. I was saddened by the thought that this sweet little creature would likely have a life shortened by the brutality of nature, but this was only transitory.
By now a few hours had passed and things were a little cold, so we decided to head back to the campsite. The acid was somewhat visual, tracers followed my arm as it moved about, but people’s faces were maintaining their solid form. Only when we re-entered the normality of human interaction at the campsite, did our state really start to come to the fore. You’re sure that people can spot you a mile off, single you out, highlight your deviation from normality, but in reality they don’t have a clue. As we bowled into the site, we laughed at the state of our bit of the campsite. While everyone else’s were neat and tidy, families out for a weekend in the country, ours looked like a pseudo pikey encampment. Fuck, we’d only been there a day and a bit, but cans, pot noodles all added to the flavour! The acid made this real funny and I was collapsing in laughter at our rubbish pit.
We laughed, joked, chatted, drank, smoked some weed and enjoyed each others company as the acid started to fade into the background.
The gear had been driven from my head all day but that wasn’t going to last forever. I began to start to think about where my next hit was coming from.
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![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
