K

This is a post from some couple or three years ago during a period of time in which I was experimenting with powder ketamine. What follows is my initial experience in solitude. A solitude that was not to last.
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Greet. A summary follows of my quest last night.

My band's rehearsal in Archway terminated at around 11 last night - salient point: We likely have a new recruit in this Colombian drummer who found one of our posters, and will no doubt prove legendary - and I returned to my parents' house to eat and sleep. However, I remembered that, tucked inside my copy of Homer's Odyssey was my remaining Ketamine, purchased from dear Craig over the weekend.

My indecision, having been weighed in the balance and found to be wanting, led to the following imbibing, and The K hit home swiftly, and forcefully - at the time I was sure it had managed to hack its way through my nasal membranes in order to more effectively coat my thin mind.. It was a mesmerisingly powerful experience, beginning with my crash-landing into The Great Vacuum I, lying kidney-shaped, suspended within the bowels of the Universe. A Floating Kidney. The following events comprised, more-or-less, of my relocation from the backroom to my bedroom - a journey of probably 16 seconds. During this period of 'lost time' I definitely died, or at least visited Hades, the realm of the dead. All prior human-based pandemonia were flung from my perception; I was no longer preoccupied with Self, and found myself part of a massive pinkish chain of Life, forever interconnected, Dripping Cubes.

Finding myself laying on these monochromatic, moonlit and melting cubes, everything I said morphed and would only come out as 'LOVE' - 'LOVE' - 'LOVE' -. I mean, I could not physically utter another phrase: I reminded myself of the Seraphim, devoted entirely to singing God's praises. Brilliant stuff. Every inhalation a total and utter un-creasing, every exhalation a hurricane of potential energy.

Then I hear insistent words, to the effect of, "Daniel, what the fuck are you doing?" I had HEARD that tone of voice before. "Everything is Blisssssssss", I'm saying, a gaseous snake in my throat elongating every sibilance, every 'S' lasting an age. "No, Daniel, it's not!" It then became clear: That's a human talking to me. My father in fact. I had fallen into my reverie on his stairwell - my 'cubes' - inches from his door. "You've been running about the house Screaming, grunting like a stuck-pig, this is NOT acceptable!" In time, I managed to mumble their praises and totter into my room where I promptly continued my daze unfettered by old people. I spent much time simply Being in my inter-stellar bedroom, closing my eyes and scanning the area through my eyelids.

I awoke to a message asking for payment of debt (£300+), another shoulder injury, and realised that I should have stayed in my K-burrow.

Anyway, that hasn't happened to me before, I just wanted to update you on my 'whereabouts'.

Stay crass.
  
The Monoceros