a romance with speed....

yoUr bLiSS

Bluelighter
Joined
May 21, 2001
Messages
892
this may be more suited for the words forum, but i thought i would get a better reaction here. i feel that those lurking here in the darkside may understand the following babble...i don't quite know what to call it. a romance with amphetemines perhaps? a love story with speed...

feel free to move me if i don't belong here! :)

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***SPEED*****

Emotionally she leaves me empty. There is no passion to be found within her icy grasp. She offers me nothing that I do not already have. No insights, no epiphanies, no heartbreak, no laughter. All that she bestows upon me has existed all along. She simply breathes new life into long forgotten passions. She clarifies and motivates. I turn to others to alter reality. To escape for a while. I can recapture lost youth, view the world thru the eyes of a child. Unjaded full of wonderment. I often cloud my head with silly whimsical nonsense such as this. Most substances twist my perspective, she simply sharpens it to a gleaming almost lethal point. She gives birth to a perpetual form of kinetic energy. Energy to focus...clarity in thought. In simple terms stripped of the colorful language, she gives the lazy brain a fresh new jolt of motivation.

I used to take her out with me a lot. Usually on Friday nights. We would dance hand-in-hand till the sun came up...and then some. She quickly grew tired of this. She felt the energy was scattered...wasted. Too much else going on to ever clearly focus. I now only invite her over when I am home alone. We rarley ever leave the house. I don't see her quite as often anymore. That's probably a good thing.

I always take care to treat her with the utmost respect. Do this and you should be able to keep her under control. Use her with certain goals in mind. With direction and intent she thrives. Always proceed with caution. She's got a fine delicate line. Cross it and she is in control. I manage to stay one step ahead of her at all times by being respectful, responsible and always keeping my head. Never trust her and always watch your back.

She preys upon the weak, gaining power and control almost effortlessly. Her presence is strong, forceful and overpowering. At some point she knocks us all down. I've fallen victim to her beautiful deceptions several times. She can be positively dazzling at times. Just downright brilliant. But she's sneaky. She has a subtle way of infecting your mind...infecting your soul...infecting your bloodstream. She slips in quickly..quietly. By the time you realize she is there, she has already curled up and made herself at home. She is like a forbidden love. Your head knows she's all wrong yet she feels so damn good. A sinful indulgence the thrill will bring you back for more. She is lust in chemical form. She will make you crave her....

Once she has you captured, she reveals her true colors. Her brilliant luster is merely a facade. Scratch just a bit beneath the surface to reveal a rotten core. What's that stench? Pure evil. Rot. Death. Addicton. She is ruthless, vile, and unforgiving. Yet she is far from undefeatable, and far from predictable. It is entirely possible to escape relatively unharmed with only minor scrapes and bruises. Other times she'll drain you completly. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. She shows no mercy for the weak.

I have yet to experience the full extent of her wrath. I do not plan to ever. I never let her get too comfortable. I am the stronger one standing at the edge of her line...daring not to cross. Yet others are not so lucky. Let her stay for more then a couple of days and your doomed. Never give her multiple sunrises. Her power seems to double when you head into the 48 hour zone. You cannot hide at this point. She will unleash chaos and wreak complete havoc upon your peaceful little world. Chaos can be quite a destructive force in the wrong hands. Once the chaos takes form, she will then take over your mind. You will see and hear what is not there. Not long after, the paranoid dementia kicks in. If given the chance she will reduce you to an incoherent soulless chattering bag of bones. I know. I have seen it. A tragic mess of freshly picked scabs, mindless babble, and odd-jutting angles has taken the place of what used to be a girl named Nicole.

Getting rid of her is usually not a problem. Sometimes,in my weaker moments, I may let her linger...stay a bit longer then usual. Other times she deliberately may try and overstay her welcome. I simply kick her out then. She's powerless on her own. Like a vampire she gains strength by feeding off of others. Craving and weakness give her fuel. Her ultimate goal is your addiction.

She came knocking on my door about 7:00 P.M. last night. I plan on sending her home with the sunrise. For all her potential dangers, all her rotten insides, I enjoy our time together. I respect her demons...hell i've battled them a few times. I try to keep our visits minimal...few and far inbetween. Twice a month is where we stand at the moment. Each time she leaves I know she'll be back, even though I always deadbolt the door and tell myself different. She'll probably head to Long Beach next. I fear she seems to have taken permanent residence with a few friends of mine. She's wearing them down rapidly. I see thier spirits dwindling...almost nonexistent.No luster, no light. Dull eyes where stars once shone. What can i do? Hope for the best i guess. She will take EVERYTHING from them if they let her. I can only hope they still have some strength, sense, and self-worth left somewhere in those fried little brains of theirs. Recognition and the drive to change..to stop..to fight back renders her powerless everytime. She is drained instantly moments after the first initial confrontation. Even the weakest of souls can conquer..even those flickering on the edge of burnout. It is the dead souls, the virtual jabbering skeletons, the emtpy husks, who have no hope.It is the tragic mess of freshly picked scabs, mindless babble, and odd-jutting angles left in place where a girl named Nicole once stood.
[ 07 September 2002: Message edited by: yoUr bLiSS ]
 
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Just a few days ago i delved head first into my first real experience with meth. 48 hours after i had started i finally crashed. One of the worst drug experiences i've ever had was finally ending.
In the days after i've tried to sum up my feelings about this drug and what it did to me. It's changed my attitudes about drug use in general, myself, the nature of addiction, my ability to handle substance abuse, and has me reevaluating many of the habits i used to consider innocent.
In that way, it's one of the single most powerful substances i've ever used. As I tried to finish my evaluation of the experience, i came here, and read this eloquent insight into it. I've saved it, and hopefully it will help me remember the nature of the beast if i ever start to slip and get irresponsible again.
Great post, 7 days ago i wouldn't have understood it, but now it speaks right into the depths of my confused and exhausted heart. Thank you for taking the time.
 
Very nice. I'm glad I took the time to read your post. It's pretty interesting that you call speed a "her"; many people do the same. I always called glass a "him" just because I enjoy the control of this helpful - in a butler kind of a way - substance.
Quite a few of my friends are into it, I guess, though I never noticed that it was taking over their days or anything. Mainly a couple of weekends a night, to stay awake. I like to not use drugs in a useless way, just cuz there's nothing to do. Rather, if you need to focus (to play a winning game of pool for $1000 prize ;) ) or stay awake for the party, this substance is God. I can see, however, how it would become easy to abuse it - after all, being focused, strong, smart, and doing so for hours and days without being tired - yeah, that can be pretty addictive in of itself. Scary indeed, but if the user has the power to tame this substance and use it rarely when counts, in the game of life, advantage is with the user permanently.
 
I call her Crystal. There's TJ one side of me. I call my alter ego Crystal Hyde. God girl we've been through so much together. I've enjoyed substances over the years, but if I had to pick one, she is my favorite. Crystal is so very powerful indeed. I think it takes a certain type of person to become an addict though, no matter how potent the substance.

Ever notice how a few people you've known for years maybe do it 2 or 3 times a year? Like only for a special occasion and that's that. All my adult life, I've gravitated towards her for her lending me encouragement, enthusiasm, and at times the courage to even feel motivated and optimistic when sober I felt otherwise trapped.

Four years ago, I enjoyed her so much, I put her ahead of my job and other responsibilities that were a drag. That led to no where to go, no roof over my head. I lived in a friend's garage that had a couch in it. Life sucked so bad. Being sober all I wanted to do was sleep on the couch all day because I had no money, no job, and couldn't find a place to work within walking distance.

It was a horrible feeling. Like there was no way out. Then a stranger gave me a couple lines of speed which is a whole other crazy ass speed adventure. I saved the lines and did them over the next 2 days. It gave me hope and optimism to keep taking action to get out of that hell.

Those 2 days of action with Crystal by my side worked like a charm. I not only found work, but my new employer fronted me money to get my car fixed so I could drive for my job. Anyway, Crystal is a double edged sword. Funny how, she was the reason I allowed myself to get in so many jams. Yet other times, she has worked in my favor.

Nicole your friends you talked about ring true. I lost 2 friends I loved very much. God how I tried to be there for them and I would have helped in any way if I could have. Unfortunately these 2 friends happened to be closet gay guys, but would not accept themselves probably because of their strict Catholic upbringing.

I had detailed discussions with both of them. One of them was my dealer. At the time I was a regular of his, I was hooked. I had to shoot 1/16th a week. My habit however I found out was an insignificant weed next to a tall redwood tree compared to his. The last few weeks I saw Pat before he simply vanished into thin air, he had kept repeatedly telling me he was going to kill himself and how.

I begged him to go to the priest down the street. I asked him why. Was it his habit? But he said no it wasn't that at all. I knew the reason. I tried grasping at straws and said "Pat you can't kill yourself cause then you'll only go to Purgatory where you'll be forced to remain and you can't do speed."

My effort failed. He was getting kicked out of his condo. I felt I had to try to do something. He put me through hell cause I felt the suffering he must be going through. He would never stop speed because he was running away from who he was. Finally I called his sister whose number I got by listening to him repeat her number to his landlord who was throwing him out.

He said he was going to live in his truck. I had known him for exactly one year. He was psychotic at times. I dreaded calling his sister cause I knew by calling her, I would realize a junkie's worst nightmare. My dealer would cut me off. I called anyway or I'd have felt guilt forever. His sister told me that she had lent Pat $80,000 the last year and couldn't understand what happened to it.

She had lent him $9000 to give his landlady back rent for the past 4 months or however the hell long. She was puzzled as to why he was being evicted if she gave him $9000. My fucking jaw hit the floor. Holy Fucking Christ. Then she asked me if I had any idea what happened to the money she lent him. "Oh come on," I thought. She was in total denial.

"TJ does he do any drugs?" she asked. I told her I hadn't seen him do any drugs, but if $89,000 mysteriously flew away, then she should put 2 and 2 together. I told her my concern about what he told me over and over. "Oh Pat always says that when he wants money out of people."

Well he knew I had no money. I guess he wanted me to give him some speed out of my bag that I knew he was pinching anyway. I confronted him and that stopped. Two weeks later he left a pissed off message on my voice mail. He angrily exclaimed that his sister cut off his $300/monthly allowance because of something I said that she interpreted as how he spent the money. I cried and told his pager that he put me in a terrible position. I figured he must want me to try to help him since he kept telling me that!

My God what did he expect me to do with that information I asked? He called back saying it was my moral responsibility to pay him $300 month cash now that she cut him off or don't call him again. Six weeks later, a freak accident occured. My other connection got some kick ass speed that was so sweet, I'd have married her if she were a guy! I did a shot and went straight to heaven.

I was looking forward to a week of bliss. I put my sealed plastic baggie of speed under a coaster. In a coaster right next to it hours later I noticed a styrofoam cup of soda. The precipitation melted onto the table and when I went to do a hit, my crystal was dissolved.

God I cried out. Fucking hell this was no fair! NO FUCKING FAIR! All that money for nothing. The worst kind of despair. I loaded all the water with melted speed into syringe and shot it up. Nothing. During that time I got a wild hair up my ass and decided to call Pat's pager and tell him what happened. Perhaps he'd feel vendicated. I said "Pat feel free to tell me to fuck off if you want, but my bag of speed got wet and now its all disolved. Any suggestions?"

He paged me back saying to let it dry out. Too late it was gone. Six weeks later he stopped by the house. It would be the last time I ever saw or heard from him again. It was a friendly visit. We patched things up. He was no longer angry with me. I knew things weren't going well. He lived in his truck. The shocker came when we showed each other our arms and asked if they looked bad or not. Pat, I swear up until that day, had dark construction worker tan and it ALWAYS hid track marks.

I on the other hand have arms that might as well have posted a sign SHE SLAMS DOPE! When Pat rolled up his sleeves, my heart sank. Oh God, babe your're so lost and there's nothing I can do for you. His arms and veins looked bruised, scarred, and put through some horrible torture camp. We hugged goodbye. Two weeks later his pager was off. I never heard from him again.
 
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That was beautifully written, and really hit home with me. I have only begun using, strictly MDMA when I started, now thinking about delving into K and speed and acid...Your entry made me think about where I am going and if I'm gonna be happy there. So thanks, for showing me what I dont want.
 
damn TJ that was heavy....i'm sorry for all that you have been through. i could not even imagine things to such an extent. thank you to all who took the time to read this. the inspiration and focus for the story was spawned directly from HER visit last weekend. i admit to this within the context. once she left and sleep had visted, i awoke almost embarrassed about posting it. i almost deleted the whole damn post. i'm glad i chose to keep it... :)
 
We call her Tina, and she is an evil bitch. We have such a love/hate relationship. I love the come up and hate going thru it on the come down. Everytime I have an awful, terrible comedown I swear I'm never calling her again. And then I'm out, and it's been a while and I forget and hang out with her only to swear her off again the next day. Somedays I just wish I'd never talked to her...
 
^indeed!^
i've always thought of speed as an inanimate & asexual object, rather than gender specific - but it does make sense for speed to be female. who else could wrap her arms around you so damn tight you feel like you can't breathe?
She is lust in chemical form.
too true. i have fantasized about speed in the past, most users do i think. it's a special, insidious kind of creeping addiction - worse than smack IMO because the notion of a line is *always* welcome.
 
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miss tina...the bitch in the beautiful red dress...she is my lover, my life...she had taken all the pain left by previous lovers...she has left her own kind of pain in it's place....never have I known a woman so kind, gently, warm, accepting, helpful.....never have I know a woman to be so decietful, bitchy, icey, isolating, destructive....they are one and the same....she is the best thing to happen to me...she is the worst thing to happen to me.....She will always have a place in my heart, no matter how many times she makes me cry and breaks my heart...she will always be welcomed back with open arms, open eyes....and a straw poised and ready to go....miss tina, you are my reason for happiness, my reason for sadness....you are the bitch in the most beautiful red dress....
 
also the way we talk about tina... calling her her/she ect... how we're hangin out with tina tonight and are going to take her home for some fun... ect ect... this is the only drug we refer to in this way and talk in such a manor.
(when i say 'we' i mean my friends and i...
 
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yoUr bLiSS said:

She preys upon the weak, gaining power and control almost effortlessly. Her presence is strong, forceful and overpowering. At some point she knocks us all down. I've fallen victim to her beautiful deceptions several times. She can be positively dazzling at times. Just downright brilliant. But she's sneaky. She has a subtle way of infecting your mind...infecting your soul...infecting your bloodstream. She slips in quickly..quietly. By the time you realize she is there, she has already curled up and made herself at home. She is like a forbidden love. Your head knows she's all wrong yet she feels so damn good. A sinful indulgence the thrill will bring you back for more. She is lust in chemical form. She will make you crave her....


sweetness you know i would quote your whole writting if i could think of ways to answer every lil thing u make my mind tick over about. just this paragraph alone makes my mind go fast thinkn bout things.

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wow dude. crazy. i had no idea a "best of bluelight" forum existed. lo and behold i searched it on a silly whim and found this here. i wrote this years ago yet it nothing has changed...
 
romance with speed..............
Thats brillent has described it very well
 
there is beauty in "being a hopless romantic" thats for sure. its a shame becaue theres alot of people out there who fucking HATE speed, but you know what? thats ok. their not worthy of expierencing the beauty it has to offer anyway. besides, more for us.
 
you got a nice tweak poppin, FB? Because that was some random ass details. I have been up 27 hours and I was just getting ready to crash when they called me in to work. I have to go in two hours. I am trying like CRAZY to see if any of my friends have so much as a bump. I am coming totally off yesterday's high and I have to work 9 hours today.

I just want to make it through the day without turning into a slobbering half asleep wastoid.
 
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w t f
 
"a romance with speed...."

So beautiful put, so devastatingly true! I can relate completely having let her take control way too often - but I'm back in control and have been for years now, happily.
 
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