Against my better judgement
Stimulants.
This cubical... this cubical is a goddamned masterwork of geometry. Someone had to realize they really only had to use two sides of the cube to block out my peripheral vision. And it's just high enough that I can only see cubical and ceiling. Maybe if I raise my chair... ah you have to be kidding. Three inches short of being level with the cubical horizon. I want to look out and see the cubical prairies. What time is it? I'm off in three hours. I'm exhausted. Just a straight shot from here to there, but there's no way in hell I'm going to make that. I have a test tomorrow too. I guess that's 'I have a test today' now. Off in three hours, four hours to cram... Let's see that gives me half an hour to sleep. Shit. No classes on Thursday or Friday though, and I don't work again till Friday evening. If I can make it I can just zonk out for a couple days. Where are those caffeine pills? 200 milligrams. That's about one and a half cups of coffee, right? Careful, you can't be a caffeine intoxicated wreck during the test. Dosage makes the poison. Last time it took five pills, right? Yeah. So we'll just take one every three hours. Just three inches short of a view. I'm bringing a volume of the condensed O.E.D. on Friday.
Discontinuity.
Quiet. Slow. It's the silence of the witching hours. You hear nothing except a swish of your pulse and that high pitched whine. Tinnitus. Like the sound of a Television that isn't displaying anything. Except it's in your head. Always been there. Always will be. You can hear feet against carpet and then linoleum. Your feet. You hear the plastic of the inhaler slide against the plastic of the aerochamber. You wouldn't hear that in the morning. Click. PUFFFT. You hear a slight wheeze from the aerochamber, like a tiny accordion. That means you're breathing in too fast. PUFFFT. Slow and steady. Always inward. PUFFFT. There we go. PUFFFT. Your diaphragm's going to reach its limit in a moment. Hold it. You can here your pulse speeding up already. "swish swish swish" becomes "thump thump thump" and then "boom boom boom" and it's always speeding up. Hold it. The whine of the television suddenly and all at once becomes a single, pure, true, resounding note. Hold it. Like someone struck a tuning fork against your ear. You'd swear it sounded like an external noise, a real noise, if it didn't remain in the same place when you turned your head. Hold it. Your pulse is just a roar now. Oh Jesus, something in your head is going to burst. Shit, you're going to faint. Exhale. You can feel it creep into your muscles. You know the jitters will set-in in about forty-five minutes and an hour or so after that you'll just be a useless heap of quivering jelly. But right now you're able to jog and breathe at the same time. Bully for you.
Discontinuity.
Prescription amphetamines. I see it splattered across the back of my eyelids: a jagged-smooth form racing through the highway of my mind like a tribal tattoo smeared across four dimensions skipping at the speed of light. Constantly changing. But not the randomness of chaos. An orderliness all its own. Amphetamine dreams. On eighty milligrams in a lump-sum dose but conked out like a baby. Sleeping, buy not really sleeping. Mind racing, yet trying to rest all at the same time. That's the fucking zenith, man. Mindracing. You're at the top of the bell curve. That image, it's the fucking totem, the touchstone, the fetish. Paths. Infinite paths, branch down to tens of thousands to thousands to hundreds to tens to two. No where to go from here 'cept meth or straight. Meth: Twitched and twained and waxed and waned. Devaluated. Depreciated. Degraded Deteriorated. Desecrated, Depredated. Desiccated. Meth Zombie? Meth. Straight. Meth or strait? I like teeth. Going Straight. AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OHSHITMYFACEHADMELTEDTOTHEPILLOWAGAIN! AHHHHHH! SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT.
Crazily logical thought processes and Nightmarish hallucinations are my anti-drug.
This cubical... this cubical is a goddamned masterwork of geometry. Someone had to realize they really only had to use two sides of the cube to block out my peripheral vision. And it's just high enough that I can only see cubical and ceiling. Maybe if I raise my chair... ah you have to be kidding. Three inches short of being level with the cubical horizon. I want to look out and see the cubical prairies. What time is it? I'm off in three hours. I'm exhausted. Just a straight shot from here to there, but there's no way in hell I'm going to make that. I have a test tomorrow too. I guess that's 'I have a test today' now. Off in three hours, four hours to cram... Let's see that gives me half an hour to sleep. Shit. No classes on Thursday or Friday though, and I don't work again till Friday evening. If I can make it I can just zonk out for a couple days. Where are those caffeine pills? 200 milligrams. That's about one and a half cups of coffee, right? Careful, you can't be a caffeine intoxicated wreck during the test. Dosage makes the poison. Last time it took five pills, right? Yeah. So we'll just take one every three hours. Just three inches short of a view. I'm bringing a volume of the condensed O.E.D. on Friday.
Discontinuity.
Quiet. Slow. It's the silence of the witching hours. You hear nothing except a swish of your pulse and that high pitched whine. Tinnitus. Like the sound of a Television that isn't displaying anything. Except it's in your head. Always been there. Always will be. You can hear feet against carpet and then linoleum. Your feet. You hear the plastic of the inhaler slide against the plastic of the aerochamber. You wouldn't hear that in the morning. Click. PUFFFT. You hear a slight wheeze from the aerochamber, like a tiny accordion. That means you're breathing in too fast. PUFFFT. Slow and steady. Always inward. PUFFFT. There we go. PUFFFT. Your diaphragm's going to reach its limit in a moment. Hold it. You can here your pulse speeding up already. "swish swish swish" becomes "thump thump thump" and then "boom boom boom" and it's always speeding up. Hold it. The whine of the television suddenly and all at once becomes a single, pure, true, resounding note. Hold it. Like someone struck a tuning fork against your ear. You'd swear it sounded like an external noise, a real noise, if it didn't remain in the same place when you turned your head. Hold it. Your pulse is just a roar now. Oh Jesus, something in your head is going to burst. Shit, you're going to faint. Exhale. You can feel it creep into your muscles. You know the jitters will set-in in about forty-five minutes and an hour or so after that you'll just be a useless heap of quivering jelly. But right now you're able to jog and breathe at the same time. Bully for you.
Discontinuity.
Prescription amphetamines. I see it splattered across the back of my eyelids: a jagged-smooth form racing through the highway of my mind like a tribal tattoo smeared across four dimensions skipping at the speed of light. Constantly changing. But not the randomness of chaos. An orderliness all its own. Amphetamine dreams. On eighty milligrams in a lump-sum dose but conked out like a baby. Sleeping, buy not really sleeping. Mind racing, yet trying to rest all at the same time. That's the fucking zenith, man. Mindracing. You're at the top of the bell curve. That image, it's the fucking totem, the touchstone, the fetish. Paths. Infinite paths, branch down to tens of thousands to thousands to hundreds to tens to two. No where to go from here 'cept meth or straight. Meth: Twitched and twained and waxed and waned. Devaluated. Depreciated. Degraded Deteriorated. Desecrated, Depredated. Desiccated. Meth Zombie? Meth. Straight. Meth or strait? I like teeth. Going Straight. AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OHSHITMYFACEHADMELTEDTOTHEPILLOWAGAIN! AHHHHHH! SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT.
Crazily logical thought processes and Nightmarish hallucinations are my anti-drug.
