THIS POST CONTAINS DRUG REFERENCES
SO IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ ABOUT DRUGS DON’T READ THIS POST!
ACTUALLY THIS ENTIRE POST IS A STORY ABOUT A DRUG EXPERIENCE!
THOUGH IT IS ABOUT DRUGS IT IS CAUTIONARY AND HILARIOUS!
WHICH IN MY OPINION CREATES MORE OF AN IMPACT!
THIS POST ALSO CONTAINS POTTY MOUTH!
THE CHOICE IS YOURS!
Tool cover: alexgrey.com
OK people, I said this post was coming soon so here it is. I’ve decided to release this story in installments so here is Part 1. But first I have to set this story up a bit. This “bad” trip happened on my 19th birthday 2000, and I don’t really consider it bad because I learned things I didn’t know about. I saw many beautiful things and some frightening things as some of you may have read in my post “THE F’N DEVIOUS DEVIL”. That really happened to me. The bad part was what everyone that was at the get-together had to go through. What I saw wasn’t what they saw. What they said to me wasn’t what I heard. Some of these things were told to me afterwards due to the fact that I was gone. I went to “The Matrix” and beyond and this is…
HOW I MISSED MY 19TH BIRTHDAY(THE MATRIX TRIP) Part 1:
It was the year 2000, my 19th birthday. I didn’t get a flying car as a gift like The Jetsons, and the Discovery channel promised. It was Saturday, I think. It’s a miracle I remember anything at all. So what day it was isn’t important. My brother Shawn and I went to the mall. I couldn’t stop thinking about the festivities to come, ACID!. My favorite substance at the time. I spent a a lot of my time and brain cells on LSD in my teens. I loved it! When I was tripping I truly felt like I was home. I was in my element as they say. Who are “they” anyway? I bought myself a pair of these glasses that multiplied everything you looked and added a nice rainbow effect much like a prism, a CD, DJ Krush which will be relevant later in the story. We also bought a case of beer of terrible quality for economic reasons. We drove home and began drinking immediately, as one often does. I listened to the CD. I wasn’t impressed but it was pretty good. Slow, instrumental hip-hop beats. I was in the mood for music with hard-hitting, heart-racing, speed. But I was wating for the right moment to play that stuff so I warm up with DJ Krush. I called my best friend I’ve known since the 4th grade, Ron. “Yo, dude what’s up? Everything ready?”, I said. “Yeah, I just have to pick up Lauren and Otis then I’ll be there.” “Fuck that! Come get me so we can take that shit, then we’ll pick them up.”, I responded very very quickly. So that’s what happened. He picked me up and we had to go back to his house. Because Ron being Ron he forgot the acid. “Happy birthday, man”, he cordially said as he handed me 3 sugar cubes. “Thank you!”. I was all smiles. He made cubes for his girl, Lauren and himself. He even let me chew on the plastic liquid breath freshener bottle the acid was in once he emptied it. For the readers who have tripped on acid you know it usually takes half an hour to kick in completely. Well that’s not what happened at all.
The onset and 2 good hours:
We had to make a stop at Pantie Snatcher‘s(this guy actually stole a pair of Ron’s cousin’s panties), house for some reason. It didn’t matter to me because in the 5 minute drive it took to get there. I was in full crazy-ass trip mode, but I was in control. HA HA! Yeah right. Faces, floors, and the fabric of space-time were moving. The patterns the gods used to create the universe were appearing to me once again. We left and picked up Otis and Lauren. The town I was from was so small we didn’t have a dollar store yet. I called every store in town to see if they had glow sticks. I needed the glow sticks. I was ready to dance and everyone was ready to watch. Anyway, I called the department store. “Hi, do you carry glow sticks?”. Remember I’m tripping my ass off struggling not to laugh at anything and everything. “Glue sticks? Let me transfer you to arts & crafts.”, “What the fuck? Dude they thought I said Glue sticks.”, I said to my friends whom all thought it was hilarious. I didn’t agree with them, but I laughed because the LSD told me I had to. I was on a serious mission for some glow sticks or my night may be ruined. I found out the store had only glue sticks. I made Ron drive me to the skating rink which was the only place close enough to drive to. Safety first right? I walk into the rink. Instantly getting weird looks from junior high school kids and employees. Maybe I was giving them strange looks. We will never know who started with the looks. They probably thought I had a white, unmarked, windowless utility van in the parking lot. I walk up to the window and ask the cashier, “Hey can I buy some glow sticks?”, “Glow sticks?”. Another strange look given to me. “Yeah, I know you have them can I just buy some and leave?” I replied in the straightest manner possible. “Sorry but they guy who’s in charge of the glow sticks and stuff like that won’t be here for another hour.”, “Never mind, thanks anyway.”. I left the building and told my friends what happened, and again they thought it was funny. No glow sticks for me. Really? A specific person and that specific person alone has authority over the glow sticks? Fuck this town and it’s skating rink glow stick technician. We returned to my house, which was actually my parents house. Luckily they were on vacation in Florida,(which is where I met my fiance about 11 years later in rehab. Oh universe, I love your methods.). I went upstairs to listen to some dark jungle. Here’s the link to the exact mix tape I listened to by Myster Mason. If you like, download “State Side Warrior” for free and listen while you read. You’ll be able to hear the exact moment I had sex with the devil. As I was “saying”, I went up stairs, popped the cassette in the player and embarked on a “…one man infiltration mission…”. The only problem was I didn’t know I was on a mission to infiltrate the deepest, darkest, strangest yet beautiful parts of my mind. The intro to the mix tape plays. I hear and feel the build up waiting for some of the best scratch riffs, beats & bass I’ve ever heard then, boom! I was dancing like hell. I was dodging bullets, fighting men in black suits, white shirts, black ties, and of course fashionable black sunglasses. Everyone knows you have to fight with black shades on right? If you’re the good guys since 1999, you damn well better have on : black leather, black vinyl, and a jacket or trench coat made of one or a combination of vinyl or leather. I was yelling, “Wooooo! Yeah!”, and things of that nature. My friends whom I left downstairs came up and made go to the kitchen to chill with them. Which pissed me off, just a little. They were there to celebrate the fact that I was born so hanging out with them was the proper and polite thing to do. We sit at the kitchen table, roll and smoke a couple blunts. All the while the music was calling me. I could hear it as clearly as if it were still playing. We finished one of the blunts as we laughed, reminisced about other times we were tripping, and spoke of what were each were experiencing at the moment. Until I suddenly hopped out of my chair and said “I gotta go! I can still hear the music, I’m sorry! Come to my room with me if you want!”. Someone replied “Come on, man. It’s hot up there.”. My parents’ house at the time was at least 90 years old. No central air. The only AC in the house was in the living room and my parents’ bedroom. Neither of those rooms had a cassette player and I had to listen to that Myster Mason tape. I got it from a rave one time I was tripping. I actually shoved the hell out of some girl to get the tape. They were throwing the cassettes into the crowd and that night was the first time I heard dark jungle. Not to mention it was the best night of my life back in those days. Sorry rave girl if you’re reading this, but I needed that tape. Why do people say “not to mention”, then mention whatever it was they weren’t going to mention? Sorry, back to the main story. I responded to my friends, “Whatever, but I have to listen to music and dance!”. I ran as fast as possible up the staircase, tripped, fell on the stairs and speedily crawled to the top. Ron and Otis were both yelling for me, “Ryan! Yoooo! Ryan come back and chill man!”. I said nothing, slammed my door shut to increase the temperature in the room because I love sweating. Especially while dancing. The way I dance varies but tends to be sexual in nature and sweating makes the sexual aspect more realistic. I once almost had an orgasm while dancing. I’ll let your imagination run wild and guess what I was on when that happened. I pressed play on my cassette player, got my groove back like everyone seemed to be trying to do in those days, and BANG! BOOM! YESSSSSSSSS! NOOOO! I thought to myself while dancing like a madman. What I thought was this, ” I knew it. I knew The Matrix was about ravers and liquid.”. Many of you may know that there is a certain style of dancing called “liquid”, often utilizing glow sticks. I danced in such a feverish yet fluid way, sans glow sticks. I became the sound waves. The last coherent thing I remember doing was, and I swear I actually did, came as close as I physically could, or just thought I did this…
… Pretty cool right? Well, yes I thought so. Until everything else that followed.
END OF PART 1:
The next installment starts with:
“I’m in The Matrix! I can do what ever the fuck I want!”
Is everyone ready for the crazy part?
Please, comment on this post, and tell me if you want to read more.
I’m going to write it either way, but as you, my fellow wordpressers know it’s good to receive comments.