Acid II Revisited and Other Ramblings

The visuals I saw on Friday night were incredible. For example, when I noticed some sort of marking on a wall or door, it didn't just appear; it drew itself in a la the beginning of 101 Dalmatians. While waiting for Scott to queue up Metropolis, I saw a shower of multi-coloured arrows fall from above, twisting and curving themselves so that they wouldn't touch anything. I saw a row of paper thin, dwarf like wizards hopping along the edge of the bed. I saw Brad Pitt in a very large gun fight on a brick wall. I saw colour in a black and white photograph.

When reflecting on these visuals, I, again, realise the power of this drug. But it is time to leave the drug to rest for quite some time. The next trip isn't planned until late spring for next year--probably around a warmer time (read: closer to summer) so we can spend a longer period of time by the water before the cold wind kicks us out.

* * *

I hate the volatile relationship I have with one of my closest friends. I hate how instead of leaving it at “we’re at an impasse” he takes it one step further and tells me to fuck off. I should be comfortable with him telling me to ‘fuck off’--he’s told me countless times to fuck off or some variation thereof like fuck you--but each time it really takes me aback and creates a sinking feeling in my stomach and leaves me somewhat raped of happiness.

He told me not to tell him about the next acid trip, and so I didn’t. But he found out (I had nothing to do with this) and got really pissed. (As he put it: drugs are pathetic and the people who do them are pathetic). I’ve tried to assure him that this is definitely not habit forming (though it looks bad), but he won’t see it any other way.

I don’t know what to do other than to wait to see what he does. And, like always, the waiting game sucks--so who’s up for some Hungry Hungry Hippos?

* * *

When I reflect on my relationship with Scott, I find myself feeling depressed at times, thinking that he could do much better than me. I do feel lucky, but unworthy at the same time.

* * *

There’s too much to do and not enough time to do it. Time flies when you’re running low on it.



And I think I'm done here.