[Vail]

I sat there, comatose, not really moving. I had taken a small blue pill earlier in the night. Exstacy, yes that's it. That's what I had taken. I didn't remember the exact time, and I knew I should be doing something other than sitting on the couch, unmoving. My bloodshot eyes swung as far to the left as they could, my head didn't really move. My mouth was hanging agape, as though I were in awe of something, I wasn't.

Looking to my left I saw a girl, but she wasn't important, not right now. What was important was figuring out why I couldn't move. And then a gradual realization rolled through me. I had smoked marijuana in conjunction with this pill. This was of course brought up by a friend, whom claimed it was the greatest thing ever. I was in a euphoric state, but I was also not going to be socially interactive while in that little world. But I wanted to be, eyes swing forward.

I couldn't remember why there were drums beating in my head, but it wasn't within my head, it was playing on the stereo. Techno music.. Plastikman.. and the sound clips and music coming forth were sending me into dizzying spins. Bringing back unwanted memories. A memory of the first time I thought I was going to die from a drug.

I was young, I didn't care how old, it didn't matter. I was hitting air duster, and I was driving around with a friend. Well, I wasn't driving, but riding with a friend, who was encouraging me to take more and more hits of the air duster, so though it were as casual as killing a beer. And it was easy, to send yourself to that deep-voiced persona. To the person that would talk with that deep voice, and then digress into a laughing hyena of a person, brains cells frying all the while, unbeknownst. And I was succumbing to his little taunts, taking hit after hit. Talking to someone on the phone, someone that is no one now, but wasn't then. And I don't remember passing out, or laughing for twenty minutes, or scaring the shit out of the person I was talking to because all they could hear was me laughing, and moaning, and of course, Plastikman booming in the car.

And the memory was gone, it had just flitted by, to say hi, to say, remember me. And it left, just like that, with no goodbye. But somehow, through that little diversion, I had regained the motor utility of speech. Turning my head to that girl, arousal was setting in, and I could talk now, so I wanted to talk to her. But nothing good came to mind, nothing really meaningful. And I really don't remember what I said, but I had said something that made her open up to me. And she poured onto me a story.

'My Dad died when I was 12 years old,' she said, 'And since I was 9 months old I had been going to the hospital with him, giving him blood transfusions. For he had Leukemia and my blood was the correct type. When I was old enough, my parents explained to me what was going on, and I was more than happy to oblige my father. We didn't get along the greatest, but he was nicer to me than my mother. Well when I got to the age of 14 I started asking questions about my father, and one day my Mother told me. When I was six weeks old my Father had went out and slept with a prostitute, and he had contracted AIDs. So I had been living a lie, I had been donating blood to a man who had cheated on my Mother. And I tried to kill myself, and I'm still in counseling.'

And that was the end of her story, and I sat there. Dazed, already completely destroyed. And now, mind-fucked. I was in awe. It was the worst story I'd ever heard. And I sat there. And her friend, who came in halfway, was stunned too. And he was jealous, because he had never heard that story, and he was probably having sex with her. And he said some things like, you don't even know this guy, and other stuff, trying to dissuade her from talking to me. And I just sat there, not talking, but I looked at her, and said, 'Thank you,' and that was all nothing more, and after awhile.. she left me. She may have said something to me, but I settled back into my little world. Gone, oblivious, thinking of how fucked everything really is.



**This is a work of fiction, any similarities to real places and persons are completely coincidental.**

***And it is Copyrighted @ Nathan Dallas Galvin***

[Peppy]

It's a decent read. But strangly, I want to read more.

[Vail]

I need to elaborate more on her story.. but I plan on putting up pt.2 here shortly. Thanks for the interest. Also, I have a choppy writing style, something kind of like minimalist writing.. it's just what I do. Just thought I would point that out.

[Storiesmaniac]

Hey you stole my suggestion for your own story. lol. I was going to say meat it out a little and it will be really good, it's good as it is, but more information and description will make it alot better. Keep it up though.

yeah, rolls are yummy, not really a mind fuck though. If you need some real inspiration, try some 2c-i or other delics. other than that, I liked it. Job well done

[RENA HANDS]

I know very little of Ecstasy, but I would think…why not add more paranoia of the ‘euphoric mind?’ Show me more about the strange seeing of the ‘changing,’ body. Also, what about the way others see your main character? Even if they too are ‘under influence,’ their sight could be as erratic as oneself. Do you know what I mean? I just want to more from this psychedelic experience. Then later as one sits alone and tries to clear the mind takes us back to Mom and Dad…

[tathi]

ecstacy doesn't make you paranoid, it helps relieve inhibitions, but a combination with pot and it sure does! :p here are my suggestions:

And the memory was gone, it had just flitted by, to say hi, to say, remember me. And it left, just like that, with no goodbye. But somehow, through that little diversion, I had regained the motor utility of speech. Turning my head to that girl, arousal was setting in, and I could talk now, so I wanted to talk to her. But nothing good came to mind, nothing really meaningful. And I really don't remember what I said, but I had said something that made her open up to me. And she poured onto me a story.

i like this and i see what you are doing here by using a kind of stream of consciousness rhyme thats hard to stay along with because he is trashed and stoned. what i'd suggest is that instead of saying "arousal was setting in" why don't you explain it in a bit more detail. and maybe also give him a touch of paranoia from the pot especially if he wants to make a good impression on teh girl but he can't because he's stoned (we've all been there! :p) also giving the girl a name will help bring her a little more to life.

how about this:

where did my memory go? it flitted by to say hi and went away without a word not even a goodbye but hey it may come back some day and say....what was i thinking about again? That girl, her thighs. oh. my. god. wow! what i would do to brush my fingers ever so slightly down that bare tanned skin. but how? what can i do to introduce myself? i don't know, maybe i can say "hey how you doing?" nah too cheesy, she'll think i'm a geek, what if i say...oh god! quick, quick, quick, she's walking towards me! "hi my name is jessica"


ps. if by Plastikman you mean Richie Hawtin then you have great taste in tunes!!