Citation: Boots Randolph. "This One Belongs in the Dante's Inferno Vault: An Experience with LSD & Cannabis (exp66968)". Erowid.org. Jun 28, 2008. erowid.org/exp/66968
There are better drugs out there than acid.
“You’re phone is fucked!”
So, this Friday started out on fairly mild terms. I finished classes, went to the bank, took a shower and developed a few songs on my guitar. A friend had mentioned that a few of his friends were going to be dosing later that day. The day was going well. I felt in the mood for a good trip, seeing as I’d only tried it one other time in my life. I talked to my girlfriend, letting her know that I would see her later. The night was destined for excellence. I knew that things would go well.
The preface is ironic only in a number of ways, but really not humorous in any. My night would severely obviate from the phrases “mild terms” and “good trip”. In fact, these terms could not even begin to articulate what kind of terrible nightmare made reality I was to experience. I can honestly say that the serious advents of the night so sharply contrasted with my initial optimism that I will probably never live this night down in my prospective attendance to school.
I ingested two hits of what I assumed to be pure, unadulterated Lazy Sunshine Dust dosed on Shock Tarts at approximately 4 in the afternoon this Friday. I felt a little tense, but fairly optimistic as usual. I was in a group of six. We hopped in some fellow collegiate’s car and stopped at a gas station for smokes. We drove up into the mountains. A family of deer, including two protective bucks, were in our near vicinity. I thought that they might defend their females, so I was a little disoriented from that standpoint.
Me and the group of guys found a pleasant outlook where we could see the city lights. Cars began to move in pulsing light beams across the country side. The heavy onset of smog reminded me of the misty Oregon coast. I felt good. Then, this vulgar asshole in the group starts adding dialogue to the already intense scene along the lines of “I want to find Mordor” and “I hate niggers”. I had apprehensive, bad feelings. I knew that the downward spiral was going to set in soon on the night.
The Downward Spiral is a theory that I formulated in High School. During any given night out, there is an indefinite enjoyable phase that can be presumed. However, Murphy’s Law will eventually sneak his way into that situation. That is where the indefinite downward spiral, precipitated mainly by drama, would take place and probably end in an unfulfilling night unless sleep is reached before that end. In brevity, this occurred on such ego-deflating basis and with such horrendous speed, that I can indefinitely say that this is the worst night of my life.
I was suddenly separated from my one friend and was stuck in a group of assholes driving down from the mountains. The vulgar guy, was he there? Oh yeah, he was there. I heard his voice immediately. He stared at me manically, his fiery red hair and blank leer frightened me. The Dark Side of the Moon roared, patterns rippled across my vision like a kaleidescope, colors changed on a two-second basis. I couldn’t decide whether or not I could bare to stay with these bastards, and I couldn’t decide if I could make it back safely to my dorm under the influence of such powerful drugs.
One of the guys wanted to crash. Tough shit. I was out on my ass and sent into a terrible mass of confusion. I circled around a lake 10 times in search of my dorm. My acid-addled brain wasn’t ready to digest what had already happened and my consciencous, though now thoroughly sober, is suffering with the advents of the night. So, essentially, within the hour my prospective good trip cascaded into what could more appropriately relate to hellish nighmare. I somehow, in my incredibly erratic mindstate, felt impending doom. Colors spun heavily. I felt as though I had to change, to morph into some sort of chi, some oneness, some lifeforce. I meditate on a daily basis, so I’m usually able to achieve mental equilibrium in altered states whenever I rarely indulge in them. I tried to meditate. Impossible. I realized that the previous generation had vacated the planet and gave the planet to my generation. I took an entire generation’s environmental morality on my own acid-addled conscience and am regretting it as I type. I argued with my own roommate for no real reason and threw his Nalgene bottle again the wall. I am such a fucking idiot. Luckily, the only things injured, besides me, were the window of a 9-11 dispatch unit and my pride.
So, I was suddenly stranded outside of my dorm building, naked. I had, undeniably, shed my clothes at some point and smashed all of the personal belongings in my pocket. I came to the realization that the previous generations were not only no longer on this Earth but they had deprived me of my clothing and personal belongings and had set my entire generation into this primitive Planet of the Apes netherworld. I was, in fact, wrong. It was just me and my shriveled manhood in the cold Colorado night ranting about saving the Earth or some bullshit illusion of grandeur that I was experiencing. I ran in front of a car and slammed my hands on the hood. I started yelling some psycho babble about saving the Earth or something.
So, then I was detained by either some members of elusive past generations or government officials who were indefinitely going to send me to the looney bin forever. I cannot recall this part of the night accurately, but I can subjectively. I thought they were stopping me because I had committed the crime of being human. I repeatedly raved, “is being human a crime?”, “there’s no crime against being human!”. I thought that they were testing me. They weren’t. They were actually very amiable enforcers of the law dealing with some raving, naked asshole college kid. I did not comprehend this until later.
This part of the night becomes very blurry to me. I couldn’t decide whether these people wanted to show me the care tips of taking responsibility for the Earth or whether they wanted to put me away in the slammer. I remember trying to escape the terrible grip of the government. I lashed out. I smashed my bare feet through the window of the cop car. I tried to lunge out and gashed my shoulder. I remember screaming, “it’s our fucking generation!”. I was convinced that the government was impounding me right after the Earth had been passed ceremoniously to our generation. How fucking wrong was I? I was quickly forced to the ground, naked, face-first and lifted onto a stretcher against my maniacal, belligerent and probably comical protest.
It was then that my hellish, Kafka-esque introspective nightmare began. I saw that there were big government officials in front of me. Their eyes stayed within menacing shades of red. Their tongues seemed to snake out at me. They began injecting me with strange fluids. Lethal injection: it was the best option I tried to transform into pure, white energy. I hoped for death. Better than the torture that would indefinitely await. I was handcuffed and bleeding. I saw the Christlike parallels. Stigmata. The needles reminded me of morphine injections reserved for was casualties. The broken glass dug into my wrists and back, They began to elevate my stretcher. I was going to be crucified. Fuck, oh dear.
I must of been a real pain in the ass for the nurses, screaming bloody murder and convulsing like a loony. I heard the words, “psychiatric evaluation”, tossed around by some of the government folks. I was going to the sanitarium. I was getting booted out of school. I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep or to be euthanised. I laid in the hospital bed, hooked up to an IV, tubes up my nose, heart monitor going. Colors changed with great intensity, continually, every few seconds. I confronted the scenarios that I had not only probably severed all of my interpersonal relations with everybody in my life, was facing possible expulsion, was indefinitely facing disorderly conduct and indecent exposure charges, a possible eternity in a mental ward, but that I had left a group of friends on the same substance in the mountains. Now, that’s alot to lay on an acid-addled consciencous I bawled for at least 4 hours. I’m sure the medical staff were laughing most of the time. I would have been.
As it turns out, my dignity and blood were the only major donations made to the Downward Spiral on this faithful night. Nobody hates me, except possibly the officers and nurses involved in my detainment. My parents are none too pleased, but haven’t severed communication with me. Well, I haven’t talked to me girlfriend yet and don’t have a phone right now, so I may have spoken too soon. Gossip spreads quickly. I’m sure there are alot of campus sewing circles that my name will be circulating in.
So, the night could have gone alot worse. I could be in jail right now being some leviathin monster’s bitch. I’m going do as much as humanly possible to eliminate the tarnish of this one erratic act on my comprehensive educational career, as I pride myself implicitly as being level-headed and mild mannered most of the time. I can’t really change the past, so I am considering this night a learning experience.
Why am I writing about this? I feel like shit. I feel that the only way to satisfactorily purge my heavy conscious is to sit down and write, stream of thought, about the night. My face aches. My body is covered with meaty gashes, scrapes and tread marks from multiple IVs. I will be paying for the window of the police vehicle. I will be going to court and paying expenses. I am in such a depressive state right now that the only way I could fall asleep would be to write. I regret this night, but am glad to have survived it, that no one was injured and that the only major devastation lied solely on my ample medical bills.
I also wrote this to clarify any rumors, which tend to ruminate quickly among the shit-stirring sewing circles which I truly and utterly despise. I did not sexually assault anybody, as did another student who took off his clothes on LSD. I shudder at the mere comparison between our infringements of the law. Our intentions were, obviously, completely different. Even mine, in my hallucinatory fugue, were fairly pure and ideological as opposed to vulgar, wanton, carnal. I can’t really give a rational reason for my actions, apart from the fact that I was on LSD. I hope to be charged sparsely with infringements of the law, but expect the worse, as I have to take responsibility for my actions ridiculous actions. As the nurses say, I made a mistake and was just “weird'.
I can honestly say that this night was the worst of my life, the saving grace only being that I was not arrested and put into a holding cell for my disorderly conduct. I am hoping for the best and plan to partake in extensive community service, which I am apt to, in bettering myself and controlling my modes of thought. This is the first time that I’ve had a run in with the law, and I plan to make it the last. I was entirely out of sorts that night and I think half the campus will be letting me know about it all over again, come sunrise. I made a number of mistakes and now will have to endure the repercussions. I will take this experience as a learning experience and learn to better myself as a person through it. I would like to state that I have no moral objections to public nudity, even if it is near freezing outside. My unruly behavior was inexcusable and will be problematic for me in the ensuing months. Save to say, covered in stigma, currently colorblind and pounding headache, that I have successfully vanquished my curiousity regarding the potency of acid and have no desire in imbibing in such mind-altering drugs ever again and feel intensely at my uncharacteristic outburst.
“You’re phone is fucked!” My roommate laments.
Did I? Yeah. I did. Well, maybe the SIM card is salvageable. Some night.
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