What's hard to understand when you've not experienced a drug or something that's drug related? (Warning: I let the stimulants talk and didn't censor or edit.)

Disclaimer: Those of you that don't understand truly brilliant writers such as Burroughs and his ilk. Don't worry this is nothing like it. This is the unadulterated result of letting 200mg IV meth loose with a text box with promised of no edits. It's part rambling, sometimes coherent and if you apply the question asked in the title to this piece then it could be considered a performance piece. The drugs even decided I'd put a little poetic writing in places. It's so multi-faceted it's even proof that can't be disputed that drugs bought online aren't only real but potent. A few years and Txtboxinramblism will be seen alongside gonzo journalism and the beat generation seem less influential and popular culture by comparison.

Addiction is one that stands out.

A less known one is the reason why people that use needles are so seemingly messy with them. Its multiple factors you've got those that've lost so much that caring about whether someone on their way to their warm office or people on similarly trivial but from the point of view on a 'lost it' places they won't have a chance or at least won't experience in the same way. Life seems so much better for you so why care if you have to deal with a needle? Mental health issues are also prevalent which obviously interfere with rational decision making then there might be legality of carrying needles where you live.

The one I experience in my own house is doing a nice shot of whatever i'm enjoying that evening and getting so fucking high that for the next however long of being that high i totally lose track of where i've put it. I lose track of having it at all because I get so lost in everything else going on. It's very hard to be tidy, responsible and effective when flying to the big crack rock in the sky on the Colombian Space Craft 13 fueled by primo cocaine. Cocaine made the old fashion way: It's farmed with the impoverished labour of the farmers. It's then cooked up by low-skill "chemists" that have been shown the process but likely no idea what is being achieved with each step. Once it's weighed and packed up. It's then straight on a sea of blood that's supplied just as sure as oil is pumped from the sea. Once that.

Hold up.

Fuck this noise. I was just buzzing away and setting up another shot when I realised that I thought the way people seems to get their needles everywhere was weird but its just being really high. That turned into a have-a-go poetry piece about the transport of cocaine from the fields to along the rivers of blood spilled by gang violence making its way down stream until it's loaded up and shot through the ports that allow travel along the riverways and canals that make up my arterial system and as soon as that water mixed with pure pleasure leaves the dock its got no time to enjoy the complex networks it'll travel. Its as if it leaves the dock and then without a moment later it's crashing through that blood-brain-barrier and lighting up my receptors like someones just smashed a thousand balls into a pinball machine. Lights flashing, noises being made, balls bouncing more erractically as they hit the parts inside that accelerate and change the balls direction. A thousand metal balls bouncing at speed, gaining speed and shooting every direction. It's lit up like someone's just set off dem bootleg fire works. Bootleg fireworks. It's during this that I only manage to get the lid on and put it down anywhere. You fire a dose of liquid bootleg fireworks into your pleasure receptors and I challenge you to get the pin with a tip on, the spoon away and the pin in the sin bin (Bio waste bin) I'm beat I'll just sit back and enjoy the fireworks, the ride to the crack rock in the sky and just let that shit play brain damage pinball.

Fuck that rambled on again. I said Fuck that noise because I just knocked my last shot on the floor. It turns out that when my brain is going millions miles an hour my actions are being slow and dopey. Just throwing good drugs on the floor. ON THE FLOOR.

TL;DR I'm high decided to start a thread on drug related things that can't be understood until experienced. I lost track of the content being written and went on tangent. It was during all this I hit the remainder of my finely powdered drugs on the floor. I'm declaring this post as an intentionally ironic performance piece that asks a question in the title then answers it with the answer provided. You'd have to experience this amount of stimulation in order to justify the post that's written. If you don't understand how this came to be then get yourself some weapon grade stimulants, a computer and some free time to burn. The full experience requires use of a needle for a brain illumination. The northern lights don't come close to the light show that's so potent it feeds on brain cells.


Comments


[6 Points] dts-NOW:

I enjoyed reading your drug fuelled ramble.


[6 Points] Chlorotard:

what?


[2 Points] None:

[deleted]


[2 Points] LongButNotaMethpost:

Amen. I lose things in a beautifully sad way on stimulants as well.

......and I like it


[2 Points] Lat3ris:

Ditto on the "try getting the pin on...after shooting powder"...as I had a point get stuck in my arm around 10 years ago. Never had an MRI, sooo, hopefully it has "dissolved" itself.?.?

Edit; the MRI would rip that shit straight outta my arm. Make sense now? No?