The room is impossibly small. Four bare blindingly bright white
walls and a couch. The light from the bare fluorescent bulb in the ceiling is
enough to burn my retinas right out of my eyes. I'm crammed onto the couch with
5 other teenagers. All our eyes are bulging, dilated and wondering. Our teeth
grind loudly, involuntarily. There were more of us, where they went I couldn't
fathom a guess. I feel my insides flip as I ride the peak wave of the LSD
saturating my mind. About 45 minutes earlier I had taken a four way of some
extremely potent acid called Charlie Brown. About 15 minutes ago I couldn't
stop giggling. Now I just wish the damn light wasn't so bright. I wouldn't mind
if the walls would stop wiggling like jello and I really wish I wasn't crammed on
this little ass couch like a sardine. I really need to get up. I can hear my
mind telling my legs to move. I can feel the message travel from nerve ending
to nerve ending all the way down my spine. My legs don't move. Far from panic,
I am intrigued by the sensation. I close my eyes and concentrate. I feel the
sensation, feel it reach my feet. I open my eyes I see my feet moving. Why
can't I get up? Then I notice the closed in feeling. I'm sandwiched, wedged
really, between a cute redhead staring intently at the palms of her hands on my
left and a heavy set kid with acne frantically picking at his clothes on my
right. I realize I can also feel their energy. Like vibrations from a speaker.
It's too much. Too much energy. Too much to process. I gotta get up. Near panic
I shoulder them aside and jumped to my feet. Free of the confines of the
overcrowded couch I feel very large and expanding. Like if I don't hold myself
together I will fly apart. I look up and the ceiling is almost touching my
head. A piece drops onto my shoulder. I taste it. It's sour, but good. I reach
for the ceiling only to have it retract from my touch. The energy changes. The
room hates me. The light is blinding. I shouldn't have tasted it. I'm filled
with regret. Blind I stumble into a kitchen. Everything is white, blinding
lights. I find my way to a bathroom. My eyes close in relief as I open the door,
slide inside, and close it behind me. I open my eyes to see a tiny bathroom
full of people. I found the rest of us. They don't even notice when I enter, as
they are staring intently at the wall. As my eyes adjust I can't believe what I
see. Black ink swirling around the walls. I reach out to touch it and it sticks
to my finger, covers it quickly and begins to crawl up my arm. Shit! I shake my
arm slinging black ink all over. It splatters on the wall and resumes its lazy
swirl. I stumble from the bathroom. I can feel it creeping up on me. A bad
trip. Once the thought invades my mind it quickly consumes me. I'm not new to this.
Acid trips are good or bad depending on your mood and mindset. I needed to
leave the place, these crazy people and quickly. I wander back to the hateful
sour room with the tiny body filled couch. I see a face I recognize and feel a
little relief. “Bro, you gotta take me home, please.” I beg him. He looks at me
like he doesn't recognize me and says “we are home.” Shit!! I gotta get home. I
need to be in a place I know. A place I'm comfortable. A safe place. And I need
to get there soon or this is gonna suck real bad. I notice that the ceiling is
drooping again and I want to sit down. The couch is uninviting, just a pink blob
with arms and legs sticking out at impossible angles. So I sit on the floor. I
can feel the crowded energy from the mass of bodies on the couch and suddenly
my clothes are extremely tight. I can barely breathe or move. I need to take
them off. I quickly strip down to my boxers only to find the very air
oppressing. No matter how I move or position myself the constriction is
suffocating. I lay still, trying to breathe. The carpet is like a bed of nails
on my flesh. The ceiling pressing me into it. I'm going to explode. I open my
eyes and see clearly. I see my friend on the couch. “Bro I'm about to have a
bad one. I gotta go home. Take me now.” It must have been the look on my face,
or the fact that he just watched my skinny, twitching body flop around on the
floor for thirty minutes, or maybe he needed a break too. At any rate, he
agreed to take me home. I don't remember the ride home. All I know is that once
in my home and in my room and in comfortable clothes and Jim Morrison soothing
me with talk of how strange people are, I felt at peace and the peak of the
trip hit once again as I lay in bed bathed in the purple fluorescent glow of a
black light. It all made sense. I have never felt more comfortable and one with
the universe as I did in that moment. I could feel myself dissolve into particles
and float like dust on the invisible currents of wind. I blended with all of
the earth. Everything made sense. The only point to life is to be life and that
was just fine with me. I had been listening to Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon
on repeat for God only knows how long when the phone rang. It was my friends
asking why I left the party and was I ok. I was feeling exceptional. So good in
fact that I totally forgot about that evil apartment that tried to snuff me
from existence, so naturally I agreed to return. It was about midnight and I
had a good 3 or 4 hours left on this trip so why not go back to the party.
Without asking for an address I quickly hung up, changed clothes and jumped
into my Malibu without a care in the world.
I believe that my trip allowed me to become connected in some way
with the universe enough so that I was able to exert my will upon my immediate
surroundings. That may sound strange but it is the only way that the following
events are possible and my only explanation for how I'm still alive.
As I pulled out of my driveway it began to rain. By the end of my
street it was a downpour. I drove the next 10 miles in the pouring rain with
only a vague idea of where I was going. Not that that mattered much. I pay
little, if any, attention to the road. I was mesmerized by the rain on the windshield.
The way the water whipped back and forth. The way the rivulets changed
direction with my speed. I was jolted out of my hypnotic state as my car hit
something and I was thrown against the steering wheel. I looked into a wall of
water as my car died. After the wipers cleared my view I could see that I was
sitting in the middle of the intersection leading directly into the apartment
complex from earlier. I tried to no avail to start my car. I opened the door
and water rushed into my car. I stepped out, knee deep in water, into the
downpour. I looked around. Nothing. No one to be found. I thought I could push
my car through the intersection but that didn't work. Dejected, I got back in
and tried the ignition one more time. To my surprise the engine sputtered to
life. I only had to drive about 30 feet into the entrance to the apartment
complex. I was looking upon about 500 identical apartment. I had no idea which
one held my friends, so I picked one at random. I knocked. Waited. Knocked
again. The door swung open a couple seconds later and instead of a familiar
face I was confronted with an angry old man in his dirty whitey tighties.
Without saying a word I ran back to my car resigned to return home. Again the
car wouldn't start. Sometimes when under the influence of LSD dumb ideas seem completely
logical. So, I decided to walk home. Ten miles away. In the pouring rain at
1:30 in the morning. I only made it about 50 feet when a car pulled up next to
me. As a window rolled down I saw a familiar face. I was a manager at a gas
station and I had hired a 16 year old kid just 2 days ago. I got into his car
and he asked me what was wrong with me. I offered the obvious lie that I was
drunk and my car wouldn't start. He took me back to my car in awkward silence
and told me I should try it one more time. I complied and to my amazement,
it started. It even ran a little better. I thank him and hightailed it for home. I
don't remember this ride home either. In fact I don't remember much else from
that night.
The next afternoon I woke up feeling that “morning after an
intense trip” feeling. Sore muscles, fuzzy head and a vague feeling of not
rightness. I had to be at work at noon so I got myself together and headed out.
Again my car wouldn't start. The events of the night before, while fuzzy, came
slowly back. I popped the hood and saw the muddy water all over the engine. I
pulled the cap off the distributor and water poured out. The distributor
houses the electric points for the ignition. A drop of water will
disable it. There was a pint of water. My car shouldn't have gotten me home. I
wonder to this day how that car was running. Maybe I willed it to run.
