Random Drug Memories

So I ate an entire bag of mushrooms, and I spent hours seeing paisley patterns emerging apparent from the background. And it made me realize, this is why the hippies were putting paisley on everything in the 60s, they must have been seeing these same patterns when THEY were tripping. Oh god, they know, they know, I don't want to die, I'm not ready, oh god I'm going to die... So then what IS that pattern and why would it emerge independently under the same chemical stimulus?

Took DXM in pill form. Robo-tripping without having to actually down any cough syrup. Just remember sobbing. Passion by Peter Gabriel was playing. I was sobbing. I don't remember vomiting but I remember that I did.

One time I smoked some PCP and I watched A Fistful Of Dollars. Or was it For A Few Dollars More? Every time I tell this story the movie changes. Anyway, the thing I found most interesting about PCP was how overrated it was. Every time you hear the story about PCP it's like, "Man on PCP kills ENTIRE FAMILY!" "He tore out their eyes with a plastic spork!" "The cops kept pumping bullets into him and he just kept coming at them!" And when I smoked PCP? It changed my thought patterns a little. Or a lot. Hard to say. I just remember this one time, watching the movie, and I was thinking of these lizards, emerging from the mud like a Claymation version of Escher, emerging from the mud and building cities.

Two words: Seroquel. Dreams.

I was getting teeth pulled. Wisdom teeth, maybe? No, couldn't have been, that was years earlier. Doesn't matter. Anyway, they knocked me out for it and when I woke up, the first thing I said was, "I've figured everything out!" The worst thing is, I'm sure that I had.

The first time I really got high, I mean REALLY got high, was pretty late in life. I'd just gone through some pretty traumatic, life-altering times and all of a sudden there's drugs right there in front of me. Call it cliche, but call it cliche while you're blowing me. And so I was really high, and I was TERRIFIED. Nothing made sense, and I couldn't connect one moment to the next. Things were happening and I couldn't narratize them or place them in context. Maybe I'm still there now.