Citation: Tinkertot. "I Stumbled Upon That Blow: An Experience with Cocaine (exp68291)". Erowid.org. Nov 28, 2016. erowid.org/exp/68291
First of all, a little info on me. I was what most would call a 'good kid', I was smart, had decent grades, all the while I managed to smoke a decent amount of pot and drink without getting myself into too much trouble. Pretty much the definition of 'wasted potential', I knew way to much about everything to be doing the kinds of things that I was doing, but I was smart, right?
Anyways, I ended up through a girl that I was interested in, being able to try Cocaine. That 'hard' drug, the substance that ruins lives. I looked back, remembered talking shit about the 'cokeheads' that dropped out of my high school. I shrugged it off, whats a little blow gonna get on me?
So she went and picked up the gram, for fifty bucks! Wow! I asked her if I could see the bag. It was TINY. How dare you pay fifty whole dollars for that useless amount of drug, or so I thought. She assured me all was well, its the rich mans drug after all. I thought a little better about it, hey, if this much gets me high, and its way easy to hide, why not! I felt cool.
And so the ritual began, the lines were cut up and on a slab of cold marble on the dining room table of a small apartment. Messy Marv's 'Playin' wit my Nose' came on in my head and I felt even better. This was going to be fun. I didn't know what to expect, but it was explained like this:
'It just makes you like, want to talk and be open and you're really awake... It's nothing like any other drug.'
I remember it verbatim, and it wasn't too far off from the truth. I'll get to that in a second.
So she blew one, then a third party blew one, and then I sat down to take mine. My first line. Up it went, they told me to tip my head back and pull my sinuses and sniff hard, so I did. A little bit fell back out and she told me to pick it up and rub it on my gums, so I followed directions. I tasted the chemically, strange taste. So foreign, so... I didn't know what to think. My mouth was wonderfully numb, and then the drip. Oh, the drip. My nose was numb, my throat was numb.. And then I started to notice...
I was high. I wasn't high... But I was HIIIGH. I felt fucking GOOD. I felt... ...GOOD. I got up, I found myself pacing about, talking to the third party, for the girl that brought me to this new place had to leave for a little while, taking the blow along with her. I talked, and talked, and paced, and was open, and laughed and heard stories and felt like I was on top of the world in that little apartment. There was no watching television, it was all about some good coke music and some good coke talk, and that just plain motherfucking GOOD feeling.
The night carried on and we shared the rest of the bag, had a great time, and I loved it. I knew right then, this is why people get addicted.
But that isn't all.. I loved it and I knew it. And I hadn't even seen anything yet.
To date, I've only done cocaine four times. The first that night, and what I found later was that my newbie status dulled the experience quite a bit. Because in my next few times, I had it down pat, the way to suck hard, close one nostril properly, hold the twenty and cut the lines fine. I also learned how it can ruin friendships, cause money problems, and how I was starting to become addicted.
To quickly recount the best, and last time (so far) I've done blow, it was when I picked up a 1.2 gram of some GOOD shit. That's all comparative to my experience with it, but in my opinion this was good. I was at an apartment party with many girls I had never met before, and a handful of good friends. I let a friend of mine, R, chop it up with my I.D. Card and seperate out the lines. He had done it alot more then me, so did L, the other friend in the bathroom. I watched as he deftly swiped and swooped the card around the mirror's surface, and I felt like I was in a new clique, this was 'dope.'
As the night went on, I felt the euphoric rush, the golden plateau's and the irritating comedowns many times. I met, introduced myself and talked at length to everyone in that apartment if I knew them or not. I partied hard, all night, seemingly never stopping smoking cigarettes, and by the morning time I was ready for more. But I was out.
How fucking depressing.
Fuck Coke. I love you... But fuck you.
The smell, the taste, the ritual, the close bonding, the openness, the awakeness, the euphoric rush, it just makes me feel like a better person, a better everything. It seems to make everything better.
I'm not addicted yet.. But who is really to say? I want it. I want more, I'll find a way to get more. Then when I'm done, I'll probably want more. It scares me a little bit... But fuck it.
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