binghampton
Greenlighter
- Joined
- May 17, 2010
- Messages
- 33
He swallowed the first Valium at 8:37pm waiting for its zombie like effects to ensue. Before long he took another, this time letting it sit on his tongue to melt. It had been another lifeless Sunday and it would be difficult for him to get any sleep. Sundays seemed to consist of lying around all day, eating minimally, and fighting a twisted hangover-depression cocktail.
The problem with purchasing illegal prescription pills was that you never knew what you are going to feel the first time you bought them. With their tiny designs they are unlike marijuana, in the sense you couldn’t smell or see the grow quality. It wasn’t like he was scared he was going to get LSD or some backroom poison; even for a junkie it made no sense for him to kill his customer. Stories about bad products seemed mainly just a myth. The fact that Kris was getting information on his approximate dose from a junkie wasn’t all that unsettling. He trusted Arthur as he knew him before the days of prescription pill binges and Methadone clinics. Junkies are different than the street scum you see on the CSI television shows. They could be outgoing, kind and actually quite funny but 92% of the time there mind ticks along to the beat of a single thought.
Arthur had questioned Kris about his intentions with the pills and was adamant that he should not drink while taking them. He promised Arthur he wouldn’t do this; as he knew it would greatly slow down his heart rate. Arthur seemed to be promoting a more intense high. He went on bragging about stories of ingesting upwards to 30 Valium pills, then falling asleep in the street or passing out in food, all the while laughing as he confessed. To Arthur this behaviour was routine, and by this time too Kris was pretty used seeing and hearing about it. He settled on buying 12 Valium and one 80mg Oxycotin. Arthur was making a slight secretive commission off the deal, but what were friends for?
The pills were beginning to filter into his blood. He felt relaxed for the first time that day and his joints didn’t nearly hurt as much. His eyes began to close but he knew he had to fight a bit longer or it would be six dollars wasted. He ate two more pills for good measure, and began stumbling around the apartment. Perception was the first thing to go, which is why many refer to a Valium high as a drunken euphoria. After fumbling around in the kitchen and realizing there was nothing immediately edible he retreated to his mattress on the floor. There he gave up on trying to get his laptop to work, and fell asleep knowing a long day of classes were ahead of him.
He woke on Monday morning to the world’s leading Italian orchestra playing his favorite concerto. In reality it was a 3 year phone that belted out the same shitty 2 bar chime every morning. The relief and satisfaction of smashing the phone, never to hear its robotic notes again, was almost too alluring to turn down. But alas, he had more pressing issues to deal with like the hour plus commute to school. It was around 9 am and he had to get ready. The Valiums were working overtime and he felt groggy throughout his morning routine. Pushing aside better judgment he decided not to eat.
The commute to school included two subways and a bus. It seemed God was not pleased with him today as he had to stand for most of the rides listening to the awkward banter of “friends”. They couldn’t tell each other what they wanted to so they kept up just enough awkward conversation to fool an outside listener as well themselves. Kris was too smart to buy into this. It pained him to listen and judge their conversation as it transgressed from almost surely fake weekend party stories, to tales of endangered sharks that one had seen on National Geographic the following night. It was unfathomable that he was the only one suffering from this bullshit. Not everyone on this bus could have IPods or 8:30 AM texting conferences.
He wished he had brought the Oxycotin, so he could forget the crowded bus ride, his class, and retreat back to a state of infancy. He longed to peel the label and smash the tiny over priced pill to deactivate its governed time release. He would line it up into one maybe two lines and put his troubles up his nose. Immobile and at the will of the pill was where he felt most peaceful. No constant battles with the mind, just uninterrupted unparallel dreams and a milky nonexistent reality. The stuff would last for several hours and made the vomiting and hangover almost worth it. He wasn’t hooked but he could easily find the appeal of milling around all day in that comatose stupor.
The bus stopped and the students and workers piled off. As if everyone had somewhere to be immediately, they pressed through the bus doors full force. He was in no rush, though he was one of the first herded through the doors. Kris headed through the different faculty buildings wondering why he was there. Not searching in a philosophical sense, but why was he waking up so early to go to his first astronomy course. It had nothing to do with his major; he took it simply to fill up his schedule. Originally, the idea of the astronomy course sounded exciting. Stars, galaxies, and the universe were all unexplored to him, and other than the odd documentary he had no prior knowledge of any of these fields. He quickly learned in that first class it was nothing like the childlike fantasy he had expected. There was no talk of unknown planets or new life forms; it boiled down to math problems and star maps. He would have to accept this university was not the Harry Potter styled school experience he had dreamed of as a child.
Lunch breezed by with a stale silence in the library. He sat in a cubicle in the world religion wing reading a book on Human Rights and the 21st Century. Uninterested in the book and finished with his egg sandwich, he stared longingly at the students walking by. They walked with such purpose, not even having the time to glance in his direction. Why wasn’t he smiling, bursting for knowledge and grasping for as many books as he could carry? With two hours till his next class he decided to write the day off and head home, it was the perfect time for a drink after all.
The problem with purchasing illegal prescription pills was that you never knew what you are going to feel the first time you bought them. With their tiny designs they are unlike marijuana, in the sense you couldn’t smell or see the grow quality. It wasn’t like he was scared he was going to get LSD or some backroom poison; even for a junkie it made no sense for him to kill his customer. Stories about bad products seemed mainly just a myth. The fact that Kris was getting information on his approximate dose from a junkie wasn’t all that unsettling. He trusted Arthur as he knew him before the days of prescription pill binges and Methadone clinics. Junkies are different than the street scum you see on the CSI television shows. They could be outgoing, kind and actually quite funny but 92% of the time there mind ticks along to the beat of a single thought.
Arthur had questioned Kris about his intentions with the pills and was adamant that he should not drink while taking them. He promised Arthur he wouldn’t do this; as he knew it would greatly slow down his heart rate. Arthur seemed to be promoting a more intense high. He went on bragging about stories of ingesting upwards to 30 Valium pills, then falling asleep in the street or passing out in food, all the while laughing as he confessed. To Arthur this behaviour was routine, and by this time too Kris was pretty used seeing and hearing about it. He settled on buying 12 Valium and one 80mg Oxycotin. Arthur was making a slight secretive commission off the deal, but what were friends for?
The pills were beginning to filter into his blood. He felt relaxed for the first time that day and his joints didn’t nearly hurt as much. His eyes began to close but he knew he had to fight a bit longer or it would be six dollars wasted. He ate two more pills for good measure, and began stumbling around the apartment. Perception was the first thing to go, which is why many refer to a Valium high as a drunken euphoria. After fumbling around in the kitchen and realizing there was nothing immediately edible he retreated to his mattress on the floor. There he gave up on trying to get his laptop to work, and fell asleep knowing a long day of classes were ahead of him.
He woke on Monday morning to the world’s leading Italian orchestra playing his favorite concerto. In reality it was a 3 year phone that belted out the same shitty 2 bar chime every morning. The relief and satisfaction of smashing the phone, never to hear its robotic notes again, was almost too alluring to turn down. But alas, he had more pressing issues to deal with like the hour plus commute to school. It was around 9 am and he had to get ready. The Valiums were working overtime and he felt groggy throughout his morning routine. Pushing aside better judgment he decided not to eat.
The commute to school included two subways and a bus. It seemed God was not pleased with him today as he had to stand for most of the rides listening to the awkward banter of “friends”. They couldn’t tell each other what they wanted to so they kept up just enough awkward conversation to fool an outside listener as well themselves. Kris was too smart to buy into this. It pained him to listen and judge their conversation as it transgressed from almost surely fake weekend party stories, to tales of endangered sharks that one had seen on National Geographic the following night. It was unfathomable that he was the only one suffering from this bullshit. Not everyone on this bus could have IPods or 8:30 AM texting conferences.
He wished he had brought the Oxycotin, so he could forget the crowded bus ride, his class, and retreat back to a state of infancy. He longed to peel the label and smash the tiny over priced pill to deactivate its governed time release. He would line it up into one maybe two lines and put his troubles up his nose. Immobile and at the will of the pill was where he felt most peaceful. No constant battles with the mind, just uninterrupted unparallel dreams and a milky nonexistent reality. The stuff would last for several hours and made the vomiting and hangover almost worth it. He wasn’t hooked but he could easily find the appeal of milling around all day in that comatose stupor.
The bus stopped and the students and workers piled off. As if everyone had somewhere to be immediately, they pressed through the bus doors full force. He was in no rush, though he was one of the first herded through the doors. Kris headed through the different faculty buildings wondering why he was there. Not searching in a philosophical sense, but why was he waking up so early to go to his first astronomy course. It had nothing to do with his major; he took it simply to fill up his schedule. Originally, the idea of the astronomy course sounded exciting. Stars, galaxies, and the universe were all unexplored to him, and other than the odd documentary he had no prior knowledge of any of these fields. He quickly learned in that first class it was nothing like the childlike fantasy he had expected. There was no talk of unknown planets or new life forms; it boiled down to math problems and star maps. He would have to accept this university was not the Harry Potter styled school experience he had dreamed of as a child.
Lunch breezed by with a stale silence in the library. He sat in a cubicle in the world religion wing reading a book on Human Rights and the 21st Century. Uninterested in the book and finished with his egg sandwich, he stared longingly at the students walking by. They walked with such purpose, not even having the time to glance in his direction. Why wasn’t he smiling, bursting for knowledge and grasping for as many books as he could carry? With two hours till his next class he decided to write the day off and head home, it was the perfect time for a drink after all.
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