Went to a new year's rave, had maybe five joints at a mate's place beforehand, while boilding up some peyote buttons. While waiting for that, I mainlined say three or four hefty lines of speed (I'm a little hazy on the exact number, the mirror was like a snowfield) jumped on a fat line of coke and dropped two and a half tabs of cid. I snorted half a pill also, although I can't remember what it was or why I snorted it. Guess I just felt like it
. Knocked off a cup of awful tasting peyote brew and then booted off to the rave. When we got there it was around quarter to eleven. I wasn't feeling anything much except a little spaced and unemotional, and some odd muscular twitching and a little tension, which I put down to anticipation and excitement, so I downed a white pikachu. At midnight, just as the fireworks were going off, still not feeling anything much, I dropped a second pikachu. All of a sudden, everything I had crammed up myself kicked in at once. The acid and peyote (first and last time I ever had peyote) cut right up through the Pikachus and the speed exacerbated the whole situation. I stumbled out of the warehouse and collapsed against the outside wall, twitching and vomitting, even though I knew there wasn't much point: everything I'd taken had gotten well and truly into my system by this stage. I was like this for about an hour. People were walking past me pretending not to notice this shuddering heap in the shadows, but I desperately wanted someone to come and call me an ambulance. There wasn't much I could do about it though, because I couldn't speak, even after the vomitting had stopped. All I could do was make tiny clucking and hissing sounds. I think about an hour went past like this, but it could have been more or less, but out of the blue, the nausea dissapeared (though I'd never been aware of it as more than an abstract concept, the entire night was actually physically quite comfortable, even though it was the biggest headfuck of my life) and I pulled myself off the ground and got washed up. I went back inside just as my mate was coming out, sweating buckets with a wierd look in his eye (he'd been doing speed almost non-stop for the past four days), and we spent the rest of the night sitting with our backs to the fence, clutching ourselves and shivering with wide eyes. I couldn't blink and even after I'd regained my ability to speak, he couldn't. There were large chunks of time where all I could see was colours that didn't exist acting our my memories, if that makes any sense at all. Fucked, utterly fucked. Everything hurt the next day, and I was still seeing things for the next two days. I didn't know if was ever going to end.
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