theghostofbillhicks
Bluelighter
Clutching at my chest, one hand weakly gripping the toilet cubicle wall, I tried to breathe. No air would come in. Another huge wave of nausea overwhelmed me, and the shit-covered toilet seemed to drag me, to lure me, into the horrific darkness. Involuntarily, my body cramped up, and an unearthly wretch made a fist of my guts. My skin crawled as an ooze of death sweat coated me. I tightened my grip on the cubicle door, and wondered who would find my corpse.
See, i'd taken a lot of drugs, but nothing that could, I thought, give me a heart attack. Suddenly, the darkness within loomed up to meet the darkness of the depth of the outdoor festival toilet bowl before me. It seemed I had been spiked. It seemed like a megadose of acid, and I wondered if I hadn't unknowingly swigged a good 1000mcgs of liquid acid in my drug haze.
Okay man. You can guts this one out. You can tough this out.
No I fucking can't. This is gonna...
*hhhrrgggjhjh*
The stomach cramps intensified to the point of white hot pain and I lost my grip, falling to my knees in the sickening stench of the shitty sludge of 100, 000 festival goer's excretions. I was outside, alone, in a festival toilet, quietly dying from an unknown cause.
Rewind.
The evening began merrily, with me and the pack soaking up the helicon glow of the festival fun fair. It was Glastonbury, a 3-day trip into the English countryside, the last bastion of the Freak and the Furry Wild people. This meant anything goes. As the bloody sun set across the horizon of lush green fields, the pack and I began sharing out MDMA like sherbert. We munched down a good 20 wet grams of shrooms each. We went out into the bouncy, exploding carousel of the festival.
Tripping while being surrounded by 1000's of freaks may seem daunting, but when nearly every other person is similarly inebriated, there's very little paranoia. No 'Looks of Judgement' here, oh no. Just knowing, appreciating nods from strangers- Oh YEah We Know Where Your Heads At Baby. This was a dream and the fair was in full swing.
We began tripping hard and slumped down on the grass, in a circle. Along came a very friendly lady, dressed up as a fairy-milkmaid crossbreed- thoroughly delightful. She was selling wares, which she describes as 'a magical elixir, blessed during a pagan ritual during summer solstice. It sounded too good to resist and she was soon decanting the golden brew into 5 paper cups. 'It opens the heart' she assured us. We toasted, and glugged it down.
It just tasted of piss and the whole experience, the sheer underwhelmingness of it all, sent us all into deep, crunching laughter.
Dewy-eyed and soaked with wonder, we ambled into a clearing, dotted with hundreds of glowing fairy lights and candles. It looked like an incandescent sea. Within this space of delight, we layed our selves down and shared waves of profound silence and utter hilarity. We melted in and out of the starshine above us.
After a time, I felt an immense wave of nausea. It grew and grew though I didn't want to spoil the atmosphere so I upped and left. As I approached the toilets, my stomach was in my neck and my head turning itself inside out. And there I was, dying in the toilet.
Somehow, I stumbled out, lurching in and out of cognisance. I flopped alone down in a bush, and felt as If I had died. It felt quite pleasant, although when I came back into my body my heart was killing me. In time, I managed to crawl back to the group.
They were all still pleasantly swimming along, until one of us, A tall and drug-experienced lad, a big tall guy, got up. He was pale and within an instant of his first step flopped, as if a lifeless doll, smashing his head into the edge of a metallic bin, then crashing down onto the grass.
We rushed over to him. Blood was pouring from his lips and he was deathly white. He didn't seem to be breathing. We moved him onto his side and for a terrible 30 seconds he was dead to the world.
In a flash, he was back. He sat up bolt upright. Wide eyed and horrified he kept asking 'what the fuck happened, where am I? What the fuck happened? Am I okay'?. He took a lot of reassuring. Blood was pouring through his beard- he'd bitten a huge chunk out his lip and part of a front tooth was gone. He said that he'd stared death in the eye. He was bright white.
It took a while for us to regroup, emotionally speaking. But we did. And we all got back to our tents. We just were all very silent. But we were right there, together.
I have no idea what happened. I've never felt so close to the edge, so close to death. I've had panic attacks, and this felt more...serious.
The next day, however, we were all on exactly the same concoction of drugs, to no disagreeable effect.
Peace.
See, i'd taken a lot of drugs, but nothing that could, I thought, give me a heart attack. Suddenly, the darkness within loomed up to meet the darkness of the depth of the outdoor festival toilet bowl before me. It seemed I had been spiked. It seemed like a megadose of acid, and I wondered if I hadn't unknowingly swigged a good 1000mcgs of liquid acid in my drug haze.
Okay man. You can guts this one out. You can tough this out.
No I fucking can't. This is gonna...
*hhhrrgggjhjh*
The stomach cramps intensified to the point of white hot pain and I lost my grip, falling to my knees in the sickening stench of the shitty sludge of 100, 000 festival goer's excretions. I was outside, alone, in a festival toilet, quietly dying from an unknown cause.
Rewind.
The evening began merrily, with me and the pack soaking up the helicon glow of the festival fun fair. It was Glastonbury, a 3-day trip into the English countryside, the last bastion of the Freak and the Furry Wild people. This meant anything goes. As the bloody sun set across the horizon of lush green fields, the pack and I began sharing out MDMA like sherbert. We munched down a good 20 wet grams of shrooms each. We went out into the bouncy, exploding carousel of the festival.
Tripping while being surrounded by 1000's of freaks may seem daunting, but when nearly every other person is similarly inebriated, there's very little paranoia. No 'Looks of Judgement' here, oh no. Just knowing, appreciating nods from strangers- Oh YEah We Know Where Your Heads At Baby. This was a dream and the fair was in full swing.
We began tripping hard and slumped down on the grass, in a circle. Along came a very friendly lady, dressed up as a fairy-milkmaid crossbreed- thoroughly delightful. She was selling wares, which she describes as 'a magical elixir, blessed during a pagan ritual during summer solstice. It sounded too good to resist and she was soon decanting the golden brew into 5 paper cups. 'It opens the heart' she assured us. We toasted, and glugged it down.
It just tasted of piss and the whole experience, the sheer underwhelmingness of it all, sent us all into deep, crunching laughter.
Dewy-eyed and soaked with wonder, we ambled into a clearing, dotted with hundreds of glowing fairy lights and candles. It looked like an incandescent sea. Within this space of delight, we layed our selves down and shared waves of profound silence and utter hilarity. We melted in and out of the starshine above us.
After a time, I felt an immense wave of nausea. It grew and grew though I didn't want to spoil the atmosphere so I upped and left. As I approached the toilets, my stomach was in my neck and my head turning itself inside out. And there I was, dying in the toilet.
Somehow, I stumbled out, lurching in and out of cognisance. I flopped alone down in a bush, and felt as If I had died. It felt quite pleasant, although when I came back into my body my heart was killing me. In time, I managed to crawl back to the group.
They were all still pleasantly swimming along, until one of us, A tall and drug-experienced lad, a big tall guy, got up. He was pale and within an instant of his first step flopped, as if a lifeless doll, smashing his head into the edge of a metallic bin, then crashing down onto the grass.
We rushed over to him. Blood was pouring from his lips and he was deathly white. He didn't seem to be breathing. We moved him onto his side and for a terrible 30 seconds he was dead to the world.
In a flash, he was back. He sat up bolt upright. Wide eyed and horrified he kept asking 'what the fuck happened, where am I? What the fuck happened? Am I okay'?. He took a lot of reassuring. Blood was pouring through his beard- he'd bitten a huge chunk out his lip and part of a front tooth was gone. He said that he'd stared death in the eye. He was bright white.
It took a while for us to regroup, emotionally speaking. But we did. And we all got back to our tents. We just were all very silent. But we were right there, together.
I have no idea what happened. I've never felt so close to the edge, so close to death. I've had panic attacks, and this felt more...serious.
The next day, however, we were all on exactly the same concoction of drugs, to no disagreeable effect.
Peace.
your writing is flawless.
