A monologue of an experience.
I don’t consider this to be the “worst” thing I’ve ever done.
But to some, it might be.
It was just another weekend in Baltimore.
I was at my usual scene—a warehouse rave next to the train tracks.
And by warehouse rave, I mean in an old abandoned bank.
The music inside was thumping so loud; I could feel it vibrate my organs. Sometimes, when the train rushed by, the entire building would shake and you couldn’t tell if it was the music or the drugs.
And by drugs I mean Molly.
And if you know what Molly is, then you’ve done it. Or know someone who has.
And so there I was dancing, probably looking like an idiot waving my glowsticks around when one of my friends grabs my arm and pulls me into a dark corner.
35 for you, he says.
I froze. I felt like an idiot and to prevent further looking like an idiot, I pulled out two 20’s and slid them into his hand.
I had never done this before.
But I was willing to try.
He goes off for awhile, comes back, slips me a 5 and 2 pills. I say thanks and he disappears into the throbbing crowd.
Suddenly, I find myself in a dirty bathroom stall staring at these two peach colored pills with what I think are doves stamped on them. The Dove from the soap commercials.
I felt the pill travel down my throat and dissolve in my stomach.
See, here is the part where I mess up. You are only supposed to take one and wait a good 6 hours before taking the second one.
I did not know this.
I waited 15 minutes, got impatient, and clunked down the second pill.
Within the hour, it hit me.
Time stood still.
I was rolling.
I didn’t think I could ever feel this good in my life. The colors swirled slowly around me, the music flowed through me, and I talked to everyone and anyone that just happened to walk by.
I was able to match my glowstick patterns with the music that was playing.
The music never sounded so good. I was in complete heaven for 2 straight hours and I wanted it to last forever.
I remember thinking why the hell don’t they give this to people with depression or anxiety issues? I had no anxiety at all. I was free.
That didn’t last long.
If you know this drug, you know that it is almost never pure. It is almost always cut or laced with something.
In this case, mine was apparently laced with meth and heroin.
I became nervous. Everyone’s faced started to contort into strange shapes with their laughter.
I squeezed and twisted my glowsticks so hard that one of them snapped and spilled its glowing, putrid bile all over my tank top.
I freaked out.
Since you are supposed to wait such a long interval before taking the second pill, I technically overdosed.
And seeing as this was winter, I was outside wandering around in weather below 30 degrees, rapidly talking to myself, hot as hell but for some reason shivering.
The train raced by me and I screamed.
All the symptoms were there that I had read about. Paranoia, grinding teeth, rapid heart rate, racing thoughts.
Oh my God. The racing thoughts.
I thought about 100 things per second.
Which reminds me, that night I literally stared at the clock with a face mask full of Vick’s vapo rub to soothe me, Björk’s haunting voice echoing off the graffiti plastered walls.
I couldn’t breathe.
I stared at myself in the mirror because my pupils were as big as quarters and I just KNEW someone was going to notice and all I could think about were my pupils, and the THOUGHTS, and I CAN'T BREATHE, and goddamnit that TRAIN.
Then morning came. My quarter sized pupils were still there. I felt like complete and total shit, I looked like shit, and the rest of my day was just shit.
But it was worth it.
And I was hooked.