Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Near Quite Gonzo.

Orange Tic-Tac's and some other shit.

Everything started about 72 hours ago. I just remember that by that time i was popping some crappy-cheap sleeping pills like tic-tac's in some failed attempt to feel chilled. Once watching the Discovery i heard about pills goin' faster on you if you take them sublingual until the pill completely dissolves in your mouth, however because i was taking some crappy generics the little fuckers where kinda difficult to dilute. I had the bright idea of taking a round of tequilas for each of the upcoming rounds of "flinstones" like I liked to name them because they had the same smell of some vitamins i took as a child.

Viddy old films i would meanwhile me waited for my buds to come, looking like some kind cliché junkie, with that stupid attitude. You know sweaty and shaky hands also of course speaking to yourself rapidly and way to distant from saying something coherent. Having no sense at all of what time or even day it is and with a diluted perception of things going around you. Wait can't forget to remark those classical drug addicted eyes.

What are eyes in first place apart from being an organ of the human body and one of our most influent preceptors we have as humans, they also have been described too in a mystic way by entire cultures to single individuals as gates, some kind of windows to the soul. A living surface, an organ created in the majesty of conception when you where a single and unique cell in the universe on the inside of your mother and then, ZANG! Were in the middle of some intricate process which ended with the existence of your persona.

The drug eyes are like VIP passes to a land were you can be a complete asshole in the middle of some normal activity and not giving any single fuck about it. Nobody mess with you, with the exception of the cops or heavy armored angry people having some bad day or a toothache. Beautifully obsidian black shinning divided by some thin borderline to an abyss of infinity.

Am I speaking alone? Or am I just thinking loudly? Don't know for sure. However, that's not the point. Just try to picture me sitting in the floor watching a Doors movie in VHS. Nice movie very touching by the way it let me with a demanding urgency to take acid. Probably not suitable for all ages because the drugs, alcohol and sex abuse. " 'The Doors,' the electrifying movie about a time called the sixties and a legendary outlaw who rocked America's consciousness - forever." Said the back of the tape.

My mind was excited with the idea of having a hit of acid, peyote or shrooms any psychedelic shit just to see this movie and have some decent trip. Five minutes later, demotivated by the fact that I didn't have a single penny or any way to get this fantastic things called drugs and money. Had a toke, thunked about the fact that was using some kind of now obsolete old school video tech and memories about my childhood. Pushed the play button, lighted a cig and sited to enjoy such a nice pice of art.

Several hours passed the movie ended long time ago. Led Zeppelin was making their presence. "Thank You" beautifully played live in the BBC long ago. Bored and trying to get inventive my eyes spotted in the middle the bar this lovely bottle of whisky.

What happened to these wild beasts? I was asking to myself. They were hanging in some weird nightclub not so far from here, but they like to rock hard and party wild and savage like cavemen discovering fire. Keep waiting was the shittiest of the ideas, it was still early in nightclub hours, they were probably blasting the place and wrecking the whole establishment. Heard someone broke some shit at the place, however not my story, their tell.

I lost my phone the night before so by this time I have absolutely no idea of what's goin' with the outsiders and might end up having to  do something on my own. Pouring some of that tasty old whisky was the solution! It was some kind of special edition I guess because of the fat tag in the bottle's neck.

Was about three in the morning, bored as shit, almost out of weed and a little bit dizzy because of the Scottish flavor. Still waiting for the guys to come, they said had more pot and some serious alcohol mixing skills and a fast car, the kind of things I like.

Waiting, ugly girl style on date prank, these motherfuckers never came. So i was with my eight glass of whisky and bunch crappy benzos. Subsequently the bottle was half empty and I fainted. That never happened before in my life. That unaware fear of not knowing if things are gonna keep going cool after colliding with the floor in a slow-mo free fall ain't good. Thankfully nothing happened and I returned to the world of the living, changed stage from the living room to the comfort and cozy of my bedroom.

Jimmy arrived probably with some good news

The next morning I woke up completely out of place trying to reconfigure what happened the night before. During this morning introspection. I heard a familiar voice saying, "Sup' man, hey by the way don't use the bathroom for a while". I didn't pay attention really to these words. I thought was some kind of funny dream so I went back to my self induced "friendly" coma with the last two klonies I had. Slept for about an hour and forty more minutes, went downstairs ready to check my computer and all the stuff you usually do in the fucking morning. When I see the this extravagant character eating cereal and watching TV completely 'chillaxed' on my favorite spot in the couch.


Having some tokes or maybe a very respectable custom handmade joint made by the guy who uses hats at night just because. A friend of mine thick bearded, bad ass looking and a respectful owner of a big truck. Pedro, Roque, Stone? dunno his real name, maybe i'll better refer to him as "Steel". That would be the most appropriated comparison to this guy looks. Always chilled like some 70's character but when it takes about driving he transforms in some possessed and twisted creature with speed thirst riding a depraved green giant japanese bull on serious psychotropics. Solving complex puzzles with incredible accuracy about speed, gas consumption, the pipe rolling properly and probably too about the idiotic other car drivers who participate in this man's inner hardcore speed race frenzy.

 "There's not such a thing as a red light for me man, you know! !'m color blinded!" he yelled. - "Terrific" i replied.

 "Crazy bastard" i was thinking. You know this breed of men, the mad ones, you just can't say no to them. If you do, damn! that's something i don't recommend  they can rip of an arm of you in the blink of an eye.

 "I better keep my mouth shout for a bit and let the man do his thing," driving. I thought.

Getting things sharpened up for road trippin.

Evetything started with two free hotdogs we got in the supermarket, kinda desperate to have another hit of that thing we ate the damn dogs like troglodytes like some mad guys with the hunger of a africanized sophisto. It happened really really fast. Like less than ten minutes and  we're trippin the shit, again. Several minutes later happenend until we departed on some unkown trip to somewhere we weren't really familiar with, all twisted up in a 72 hour drug binge. Our big hope was to get stoned as posible in the way. With a chance of rain and or more drugs to come if luck played our way.

Our plan was very simple get to the headquarters, check in the table, DO NOT leave our car and absolutely not take the group bus and of course do the damn thing, stoned, and being able to cover the story in that foreign city were i've been only once in my life as child, or maybe don't.

What do i have to do there i thought. Some crappy town in the east side of the county….

East-side Country