A while has passed since I last wrote. I’ve been out there. Lots to discuss. Let’s start with drugs. I took acid in December, and found insight, just what I was seeking from such an experience.
Early one Saturday night, two friends and I stuffed some papery stuff into our gums. Two of us took one tab, and the other took two. We hung out in their room in the dorms the entire time. While waiting for it to hit, we played Minecraft together on their server. Then I noticed the textures of stone and cobblestone in the caves changing. Then we were all giggling. Cool stuff.
Acid affects concentration. As the drug took effect, I stopped playing Minecraft because I couldn’t focus on anything, I was just running back and forth along the bottom of a ravine. I’d join the conversation, then soon leave to play the game, then return. I couldn’t do anything. Then at the opposite end of that spectrum was the debacle with the chips.
Mmm, I had a hankering for chips. Really wanted some chips, nice and crunchy. So I dashed to my room for the bag of chips I had waiting for me there like a friend. I returned to the others, and spent half an hour contemplating the chips. Should I eat them? Do I need them? Why do I want them? Should I want chips? If don’t know why I want the chips, I shouldn’t really eat them. But I still wanted them. But why? I opened the bag and took out a chip. “You know, I could eat this chip… or not,” and I put the chip back in the bag and closed it. Chips.
Meanwhile, my buddies remembered that they had some clementines, and brought them to their desks, peeled them, and just fuckin ate them with no hesitation. Fuck! How’d they do that? I looked at the chips again. I picked one of them up and gave it a real close look. I said again “I could eat this chip-” My friend next to me interjected, “or,” looking straight into my eyes, I looked into his eyes, I saw only his face and the little slice of citrus he held up in front of us, “you could just mmmmmm… lookatit.”
My world collapsed. He knew! They knew! They knew about the chips, my difficulty with the chips, this source of ultimate consternation. They had watched me stare at those fuckin chips, thinking “I don’t know wtf his deal is with those chips, but whatever.” I finally realized they watched me in my indecision. I laughed. I leaned back, covering my face from embarrassment, and laughed until I was crying. Then I just cried. It was nice. Then I ate the chips and felt happy. Nice and salty. I hadn’t cried in a couple years.
The walls and carpet cycled through many colors. But it couldn’t be! I knew the wall wasn’t blue, couldn’t be blue. It must have been in my head. The wall wasn’t blue… but I understood blue in the wall, the inherit blueness within it. The wall already had blue in it, and my mind had changed to see it, I had access to a different interpretation of color. Or something like that.
I was warm, I was happy, and I was safe. I was with friends, talking and listening to music. All I could want in the moment. I laughed until my abs hurt. I was so happy. It felt like goosebumps on the inside. Sometimes my muscles itched and I contracted them and it felt like the tickling tingles that precede an orgasm.
Some commotion sounded from down the hall, so I poked my head out the door to take a look. There was a big party or two that night, so drunk people were making their stumbling ways about the area. I looked up the hall then down, and saw someone approaching. A guy on the floor I hardly knew. He was drunk.
His exact words have faded, but his demeanor was clear. He had confidence and was self-assured. It was in his posture and tone. He didn’t know I was tripping. He told me about how he was going to prank a buddy, and held up a DVD case with naked women on the cover. They were going to get him good. I said something like hm interesting, and he continued on strutting down the hall. I didn’t see how giving someone porn was a prank, but whatever. I felt his conviction and urgency, and realized that it was entirely unfounded. What was so great about his task? I was stuck on the encounter for a bit.
In the following weeks, I developed a new understanding of drugs. All drugs are equal, as substances nonessential to survival that induce effects. The distinction between medicinal and recreational drugs is hazier. Why take Ibuprofen? Because you have a headache. Why take a psychedelic? Because I was confused. What was the root of your headache? Strained eyes, dehydration, bump on the head? Each a sign that you have not taken full care of your physical health. Why was I confused? Because I drank alcohol even though it harmed me, because my body hurt from running, because I spent time with a girl without declaring my feelings. Each a sign that I did not take full care of my mental health. Mental health need not be considered so different from physical health.
I took acid two months ago, and since then haven’t had any alcohol. After the encounter with the drunk guy and the porn, I don’t view it as a drug that can help me. Seeing drunk people weirds me out. When friends invite me to parties I think about who I am when drunk and reply mmmmmm I don’t think so. There are more interesting drugs to look into. I haven’t done anything since then yet, because I’m still compiling from that trip. Nonetheless, I think alcohol will be out for a long time.
In September, Melody asked me to be her boyfriend. That was rather startling, since we had just started hanging out. I thought for a moment, said sure, then thought for a few minutes, rescinded. For three months I stewed on the conundrum of sharing myself with her and opening myself to her, drawing no conclusion and making no decision. So we hung out in limbo for a while.
Melody was the chips. I wanted to be with her, but had too much internal conflict to let myself say so and be comfortable with it. Then the drunk guy burst the bubble like my friend with his clementine.
After the encounter with the drunk guy and the porn, I let go of the fantasy of going to parties and feeling as though I belonged with that culture. People don’t approach me wanting to talk and I have lost my conception of what most people want to talk about. The desire to know many people changed to wanting to know a few people well. I don’t belong with them, I don’t fit in there. I’ll just stay over here where life is quiet and slow.
Shortly after the trip, I saw Melody as the kindest and most caring person in my current life. She’s focused on her studies and project, going way past what’s reasonable, yet always calm and patient, always compassionate, and always happy to see me. I told Melody that I’d be in a relationship with her. I can learn from her to be a better person. We can learn from each other things that we’re missing. And then, when we have gained all the insight we can from each other, we’ll go our separate ways.
That’s all I’m really seeking, some insight, how to stay childishly creative and avoid getting stuck down there. Thanks for reading.