Millershipper
Lost in cyberspace. What a lucky fellow am I.
He wanders the streets tonight, lost in a sea of chemicals and visions. New vistas open and close before his fogged, dilated eyes. He's done everything wrong. This feels soooo right. Restless feet push against the concrete, propelling him along the familiar yet startling new neighborhood.
Working late, mopping up the floor before going home. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, a sound that reminds him of late nights and tired eyes. He's already thinking about home, and bed, when his co-worker joins him. Finishing up the mopping, locking the doors, they chat of the shift now over. Then his co-worker offers him the chance of a new experience. “Take this and you'll see things you've never seen before.”
He's experimented with drugs before of course, or the co-worker wouldn't likely have offered. This is a step up, or 'escalation' as the adults in school had called it. He wonders if the anti-drug campaign could possibly be right. After all, if something is this bad for you, why would so many people try it, and keep doing it? So he takes the little paper square from his co-worker after exchanging an appropriate amount of money. The only way to find out for sure is to try it.
After they part ways he puts the paper under his tongue as instructed. It dissolves as promised, but nothing seems to happen. He sighs and heads for home. Not the first time he's taken a chance only to be handed a fake. He's almost home when he notices his teeth are buzzing in their sockets. And he can see in the dark far better than he could a few minutes ago. Energy courses through him, bringing a tingling sensation to his fingers, and toes, and other extremities.
Now far too awake to sleep, he wanders the neighborhood. Houses grow and shrink before his eyes. Lights give off streamers and flash different colors. And then he sees the magic. The one moment he remembers with real clarity even after the chemicals are gone and the visions fade into dust. He can see, actually see, the air currents moving around him. He can see every subtle shift of wind, every change in direction or speed. And he can see this because the air is full of sparkles.
Naturally he thinks of the Beatles hit “Lucy and the Sky With Diamonds”. He's always liked that song, but now he's living it. He understands. He groks. Life is. And goes on. And fades.
Slowly, slowly the chemicals burn out of his body; visions fade and colors return to their normal hue and stability. He goes to sleep and awakes feeling wrung out, wasted, burnt up. He knows this isn't good for him. Knows that this could kill his mind, burn out who he is. And yet...he's seen air in three dimensions with sparkles. He's not old enough yet to know if the price of the vision is a good one. He just knows that the vision hangs in his memory, reminding him of glory glimpsed, then lost. He ponders chasing the vision. Now he understands why they do it. Will he be the next addict?
Working late, mopping up the floor before going home. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, a sound that reminds him of late nights and tired eyes. He's already thinking about home, and bed, when his co-worker joins him. Finishing up the mopping, locking the doors, they chat of the shift now over. Then his co-worker offers him the chance of a new experience. “Take this and you'll see things you've never seen before.”
He's experimented with drugs before of course, or the co-worker wouldn't likely have offered. This is a step up, or 'escalation' as the adults in school had called it. He wonders if the anti-drug campaign could possibly be right. After all, if something is this bad for you, why would so many people try it, and keep doing it? So he takes the little paper square from his co-worker after exchanging an appropriate amount of money. The only way to find out for sure is to try it.
After they part ways he puts the paper under his tongue as instructed. It dissolves as promised, but nothing seems to happen. He sighs and heads for home. Not the first time he's taken a chance only to be handed a fake. He's almost home when he notices his teeth are buzzing in their sockets. And he can see in the dark far better than he could a few minutes ago. Energy courses through him, bringing a tingling sensation to his fingers, and toes, and other extremities.
Now far too awake to sleep, he wanders the neighborhood. Houses grow and shrink before his eyes. Lights give off streamers and flash different colors. And then he sees the magic. The one moment he remembers with real clarity even after the chemicals are gone and the visions fade into dust. He can see, actually see, the air currents moving around him. He can see every subtle shift of wind, every change in direction or speed. And he can see this because the air is full of sparkles.
Naturally he thinks of the Beatles hit “Lucy and the Sky With Diamonds”. He's always liked that song, but now he's living it. He understands. He groks. Life is. And goes on. And fades.
Slowly, slowly the chemicals burn out of his body; visions fade and colors return to their normal hue and stability. He goes to sleep and awakes feeling wrung out, wasted, burnt up. He knows this isn't good for him. Knows that this could kill his mind, burn out who he is. And yet...he's seen air in three dimensions with sparkles. He's not old enough yet to know if the price of the vision is a good one. He just knows that the vision hangs in his memory, reminding him of glory glimpsed, then lost. He ponders chasing the vision. Now he understands why they do it. Will he be the next addict?
