Drugs are goodFollow

Happy now?

Never even been drunk. Plan to die that way.

I still won't touch any of it. Never even been drunk. Plan to die that way. I am curious, however, so I get a kick out of the stories.

Considering my husband's brother died doing inhalants, I feel perfectly justified calling anyone who huffs a F'UCKING IDIOT.

A buddy of mine used to have a big thing for pill popping. He had a hook up where you would get bottles of random sh*t throughout the week and his favorite was always the codeine with a Seagrams chaser. I think he died a year ago.

I recently started up on Ambien not too long ago. I'm a big enough dude to where it doesn't put me down right away and I can really see how people get hooked on these. Thirty minutes after I take it and I'm pretty wasted.

That's one of the best parts about drugs, you can still rely on the barter system. I'll give you this VCR, 2 tickets to Pirates of the Carribean, a carton of Camels, and my Babe Ruth rookie card for that ounce of weed and a quarter sheet of Jesus Christ!

We were never more awake, and the visions came whether our eyes were opened or closed. /../

They were vivid in color, always harmonious. They began with art motifs, angular such as might decorate carpets or textiles or wallpaper or the drawing board of an architect. Then they evolved into palaces with courts, arcades, gardens-resplendent palaces all laid over with semiprecious stones. Then I saw a mythological beast drawing a regal chariot. Later it was as if the walls of our house had dissolved, and my spirit had flown forth, and I was suspended in mid-air viewing landscapes of mountains, with camel caravans advancing slowly across the slopes, the mountains rising tier above tier to the very heavens. /../

The visions were not blurred or uncertain. They wre sharply focused, the lines and colors being so sharp that they seemed more real to me than anything I had ever seen with my own eyes. I felt that I was now seeing plain, whereas ordinary vision gives us an imperfect view; I was seeing the archetypes, the Platonic ideas, that underlie the imperfect images of everyday life. /../ ,for the effect of the mushrooms is to bring about a fission of the spirit, a split in the person, a kind of schizophrenia, with the rational side continuing to reason and to observe the sensations that the other side is enjoying. /../

Meanwhile, the Senora and her daughter were not idle. /../ At one point, while the daughter sang, the Senora stood up in the darkness where there was an open space in our room and began a rythmic dance with clapping or slapping. We do not know exactly how she accomplished her effect. The claps or slaps were always resonant and true with pitch, rhythm and complexity. One thing is certain: this mysterious percussive utterance was ventriloquistic, each slap coming from an unpredictable direction and distance, now close to our ears, now distant, above, below, here and yonder, like Hamlet's ghost hic et ubique. We were amazed and spellbound Allan and I.

There we lay on our mat, scribbling notes in the dark and exchanging whispered comments, our bodies inert and heavy as lead, while our senses were floating free in space, feeling the breezes of the outdoors, surveying vast landscapes or exploring the recesses of gardens of eneffable beauty. And all the while we were listening to the daughter's chanting and to the unearthly claps and whacks, delicately controlled, of the invisible creatures darting around us.

[quote=Life magazine May 13 1957]We were never more awake, and the visions came whether our eyes were opened or closed... /../