Friday, February 17, 2012

DMT- My Journey To The Edge Of Reality

*What follows is the true and complete story of the first time I experienced a full-on DMT trip. As it turns out, the brain's receptors that allow humans to have a completely dissociative, eyes-closed and comatose experience on DMT (what I was chasing...) take 45-90 minutes to reset after even one hit. I was not aware of this fact at the time in which the following events transpired. Dissatisfied with my small-dose trials, I had quickly ramped up the dosage and in retrospect this was a bad idea. It is my current belief that I had overloaded my DMT receptors prior to this experience and rather than visiting another universe, I stayed in this one... but had a mind-bending experience in this dimension beyond the wildest imagination of the most creative person to ever live. The preceding events can be found in an entry titled "DMT and Me" on my other blog at*

..I returned to my room with six doses, a fresh pipe, and the pipe we had used initially which I figured still had some DMT resin in it. Setting up shop on my bedside table, I crumbled some "pipe filler" into the bowl and then sprinkled six doses of DMT on top. It seemed like a good idea to get some oxygen into my bloodstream so I did a few brief hyper-ventilations before aggressively hitting the resinous mass in the first pipe, which produced a surprising amount of smoke. I felt the familiar mushroom-esque feelings wash over me as I reached for the second pipe, loaded with six doses. Exhaling my first hit quickly, I took no breath at all before putting my lips to the six-dose cannon and taking a huge rip, which I held for about five seconds and then slowly allowed to escape my lungs. I went back for a third hit and about two seconds thereafter, things took a turn for the peculiar...

Suddenly I was quite aware of a burning sensation in my lips and mouth, so I glanced down towards the pipe I was hitting and the "cherry" in the bowl was glowing in about eight different shades of red, green and yellow - it looked like glistening, neon rock candy. Releasing the flame from the lighter, I exhaled my hit as I glanced up at the moonlit room around me. Instantly I was slammed with the single most intense, confusing, and interesting moment of my life. Every flat surface in the room was glimmering with pulsing, rhythmic shots of dim light that seemed to flow over them like water. The best way I can describe it is the scene at the end of The Matrix where Neo gets shot and he sees the world around him as green binary code and realizes he's "The One". In retrospect, the visual effects were quite intriguing but they fell to the wayside of what started happening inside my head.

As the DMT took ahold of my brain, it was as though my conciousness expanded to the size of a city block (which is a very weird feeling indeed because it was the first time I had ever thought about the "size" of my conciousness). It felt as if I could sense everything that was happening within a 100 yard radius of me and in my "minds eye" I saw a "radar" of sorts that pulsed to the same rhythm as the surfaces of the room. It was NUTS.

All accuracy of the "radar" aside, it was at this point such an intense experience that I decided I needed to close my eyes and put my head down on the pillow. Nothing could have prepared me for what happened when I closed my eyes.

The pulsing forces continued behind my eyelids, except instead of flowing over every surface in the room they were just blasting out into the space that I was hovering in - which was in the center of a geodesic dome (think Epcot ball) that was dark inside except for where electricity pulsed through it at the same rate as my heartbeat . Remembering that I had a body for the first time since taking the first hit, it felt like I was being pushed and pulled in/from every direction simultaneously. The feelings and sights were absolutely overwhelming and too surreal, so I threw my eyes back open in the hopes that a dose of reality would center me...

The world I met when I opened my eyes was the same on that I had pulled my eyelids over just seconds before, but everything was even more intense than it had been just seconds before. I developed a pervasive feeling of anxiety when I realized that I was still "coming up" on DMT so to speak and I remember thinking "I'm in way over my head, what the hell was I thinking taking six doses? My brain!!"

Just then, the veteran cosmonaut in me spoke up and suggested that I stand up and walk off the remaining few minutes of the experience since I tend to calm down when I pace back and forth.

I took my own advice and quickly clambored to my feet and then into my bathroom, flipping on the light as I entered.
The environment had been very (physically) dark prior to flicking the light switch, and the illuminated bathroom hit me like a linebacker.
Instead of bringing me closer to reality, the vision of my brightly-lit bathroom only intensified the feeling that I was in another world and it this point, I truly began to slip into a dream world. All human thoughts about mundane things like who I was, where I was and what I was doing literally shut down. I became confused for a moment and then there were literally no further thoughts about what things were or that people existed. I was not a human being. This was not my house. This was not my life. I was quite simply a soul experiencing a very intense moment in time that happened to be occurring. I cannot stress enough that all connection with rational thought evaded me and despite my efforts to sort through what was left of my conciousness, I found myself on a psychedelic rollercoaster with no idea how I had ended up there. For the moment I had completely forgotten that I had taken DMT or that DMT even existed or that I even existed. I just was. I stood in the center of my bathroom with my eye fixed on nothing in particular and words simply cannot describe what happened during the next... shit, who knows?... five or six minutes it felt like. I don't know because this part of the trip was truly fleeting - not unlike a dream - which is in keeping with a lot of research regarding the subject.

When I began making memories again, I was leaned against the half-wall that surrounds my shower, staring at the water flowing from one of the showerheads to my left. Flat surfaces were still pulsing and geometric but I was coming down. I remember thinking "Okay, you took DMT and god damn was that shit crazy, but you're through the worst of it, good job." And then I just stood there. Watching the water run across the shower floor and listening to it cascade over the tile. I stared at it for at least a minute, coming back to reality and decision what to do next. I felt mindblown. More so than ever before on any substance. But even that subsided...

Eventually, I was close enough to reality to move from my perch where I had been just staring at the water flowing into the drain. I decided it was a good idea to turn off the water, so I reached for the knob and was SLAMMED with reality as I pushed in the knob. The knob didn't budge. It had been off the whole time and I had been hallucinating both the visual and audio aspects of the water flowing into the drain. Whoa.

Accepting reality again and truly beliving that I was back took only seconds, but it felt like I had been gone for hours. Total elapsed time from beginning to end of trip? 12 minutes.

DMT is not a substance to be messed with. Nothing can prepare you for what you may experience (trust me, I'm verrrry well seasoned, and I still almost shit myself) and no words exist for the intense parts. Be your own judge.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Thou Readest

If you've ever tried learning a foreign language or you already happen to speak one, you probably familiar with the concept of using different words for "you" depending on who you are addressing. In Spanish, the word "tu" is used when speaking to friends and peers while "usted" is used when one wishes to connote respect, such as when talking to an official, a parent, or even sometimes a lover. Not all Hispanic cultures use "usted" regularly, but all understand it's meaning.
German has a similar set of personal pronouns, "du" and "Sie" which are the familiar and formal forms of "you", respectively. The word "Sie" (pronounced "zee"), is always capitalized to denote respect and is used very similarly to the Spanish word "usted". In fact, all Indo-European languages with the exception of Gaelic and English have a both a formal and a familiar word for "you".
It seemed strange to me that out of so many languages, English would be one of an extreme minority to neglect connotation of respect in the word for "you". Seeking to understand, I began my usual research to quite interesting results.
As it turns out, English did once have a formal and familiar "you", but the familiar version fell out of regular use many centuries ago. The formal "you" has always been "you" and this would be the same if every Spanish speaker stopped using "tu" and just addressed everyone as "usted" from now on.
The familiar form of "you" in English used to be "thou", a word you're probably familiar with if you've ever opened a bible or watched a cheesy medieval-set movie. After "thou" fell out of common use in English, the church began working it into early translations of the bible where it just so happened to stay indefinitely. Nowadays, long removed from any usage of "thou" in everyday speech, we attach a kind of regal feel to the word, when in reality its origins are much more casual.
"Thou" was typically used from one friend to another and always with appropriate modification of the verbs that came after it (typically adding "st" or "est" at the end - as in "thou goest forth" or "thou wakest up").
In a way, I was dissapointed to find out that we had moved away from the "two-yous" system many centuries ago but then again, it made for quite the history lesson.  No one can be certain how or why "thou" slipped out of usage but it's implied that at some point, the English-speaking world decided that everyone deserved the same respect in speech and we adopted the formal "you" as the only "you". At least, that's what I'm hoping happened.
Us English-speakers may not always be the best world citizens but when it comes to language, I think we're a pretty progressive bunch.

*Final Fun Fact* - The Spanish word "usted" comes from a shortening of the middle-spanish phrase "vuestra merced", which translates to "your mercy". Calling someone "usted", then, would be almost akin to calling someone "your majesty" or "your grace" in English. Most native Spanish speakers do not know this, and "vuestra merced" does not really translate into modern Spanish well.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

The Ashley Situation

*These events transpired some time ago and threw quite the wrench into my life for a short time so I wrote about them. You (the readers) are the first to know my side of the story in all honesty. My friend's name has been changed in this story to protect his identity but every other aspect is 100% true as it happened. We pick up in the midst of a fat girl's birthday party, which I have been talked into attending by my close friend and roommate, Shawn.*

   Something about the way she's wiping my face with the washcloth is very inviting. The buttercream icing in my left eye isn't burning quite as bad as it was a few moments ago and the rhythmic movement of her fingers across my cheekbones is very calming. "There," she says, "all better." It's a line most young boys have heard from their mothers and I react with a smile, just like I used to for Mom.

I splash my face with water one final time to remove the last of the cupcake remnants. Moments before, I had been the victim of a cupcake-attack from the birthday girl, whose best friend was now standing before me in a closed-and-locked bathroom, half-drunkenly helping me recover.

I've had many interactions with my current female cohort - my roommate/very close friend Shawn has been very much infatuated with her for a month or so now and she has been frequenting my house during their time together. Her name is Ashley and frankly, I can't blame Shawn for his enthusiasm about her - she is quite pretty. Her curly brown hair bobs perfectly on her shoulders as I notice that she is maintaining her soft gaze - attempting to catch my eyes and hold them. I briefly elude, but then give up and instead lock souls with her - pupil to pupil to pupil to pupil. She starts speaking. I am lost in the wine and her gorgeous, fireburst retinas but manage to start comprehending as she says "... just some of the things I've heard you say lately are so... poignant."
...Honestly, I feel like that was a misuse of the word "poignant", a slight detail that ever-so-slightly annoys me.

Ashley and I have enjoyed several lengthy conversations about various topics over the past few weeks, but mostly just when she came over and grabbed a seat next to me at the arts/crafts/mischief table and started asking questions. I have considered her attractive from our first interaction, but I heavily compartmentalize when introduced to one of my friend's love-interests. In my own mind I have put up walls and blown up her flaws to remove any temptation to pursue her myself. I am known for disregarding the feelings of men with whom I am not friends, but I very much subscribe to the "Bros before hos" mantra and would never betray a friend over a woman... At this moment, however, with her breath on my face, ethanol in my blood and her hips grazing mine, I find myself oblivious to all previous thoughts of fighting Ashley's advances.

She is still speaking, but my mind is drifting to Shawn. He is sitting in an armchair in the other room, aimlessly flicking around on his phone and generally avoiding most of the other partygoers. I caught a glimpse of him in the recliner just moments before I was nearly decapitated via cupcake. He knows that I am in this bathroom with his girl and that she closed the door behind us - this far from an ideal state of affairs.

The "bro" in my head interjects for the first time all night and says "Dude, what are you thinking?! This is your friend's girl!" Before I can break her gaze and dart for the door, a different voice speaks up - one that reminds me of conversations between Shawn and I in which he admitted that he and Ashley were far from "together" in the sense that a modern couple identifies themselves. She is a twenty-year-old nursing student with a strong mind and a wild side, while he is a late-twenties father with an artistic side... they had different relationship goals, to say the least. With Ashley in search of fun and Shawn in search of love, the "relationship" has been doomed from day one, and frankly, part of me is starting to wonder if maybe Shawn isn't just reading more into the situation than he should be. He had, after all, been introduced to Ashley by a mutual friend, just hoping that they could find common ground. As best I can tell, they had found common ground over movies, and not a whole lot else.

Meanwhile, outside my own head, Ashley is still talking. I decide to tune back in at "you and I just seem to connect, on a different level, you know?"
Of course I know. She is one of the smartest girls I've met in a while and we had certainly taken notice of each other's mental prowess, but I choose to downplay her observation in favor of trying to end this situation and get us both back into the living room. If I can reunite with Shawn, I can make it hard for her to advance and try to convince him to leave. This was surely just the alcohol driving Ashley's words and there was no way that she found me preferable to him, right?... well... actually...... it makes sense. Fuck.

Without a word, I spin to face the mirror. "Looks like I'm cleaned up" I say quickly, reaching blindly for the door handle. She doesn't respond so I turn to face her again. Her head is tilted to one side, her eyes still burning bright as she subtley raises her eyebrows and smirks. If I had to translate the look she is giving me into words, they would read: "Don't kid yourself."

She's right again. Who am I kidding? Who is Shawn to stand between me and the prize that now stands before me? He had his chance and clearly Ashley has made her decision. Without another word she steps towards me. She presses her hips into mine as I lean back against the sink. Her eyes are locked with mine and our faces are almost touching. I can't back away any farther. This is happening.

Her tongue is in my mouth, probing around gently in search of mine. I hesitate, but finally commit. My eyes close, lips part submissively. I can't help but realize that I've never had a girl be so forward with me - normally I'm the aggressor and that's a role I've always embraced - this is unfamiliar territory.
At this point, my rational brain is shut down entirely. I have broken a cardinal rule amongst friends - though it wasn't my idea - and I should be feeling terrible about myself right now. Somewhere inside me, a tiny voice is screaming in fury at the side of me that allowed this to occur. Subconciously, I reach my arms out and grab Ashley's pelvis and then slide my right hand slowly up one side of her torso. Her body is firm and warm as she steps into my embrace, letting her hands do some wandering of their own. Four fingers slide between my belt and my pants, pulling me still closer. A hand runs it's way up my thigh. Ashley leans back and breaks our kiss, flashes me a smile for a moment before glancing towards my zipper. With another quick smile she starts to descend to her knees. Uh oh. The point of no return.

I want so badly to stop her, but I am quite simply too engrossed at this point to care that one of my closest friends is roughly 50 feet away, expecting Ashley and I to emerge momentarily from the bathroom to rejoin the party. On her knees now, Ashley reaches for my zipper when we are both startled.


It's the birthday girl, drunk herself, and clearly demanding we vacate the bathroom. Ashley glances up at me for instructions and I sieze the opportunity to regain control. "Stand up" I say, and she complies quickly.

"This cannot happen," I force out. "Shawn really likes you and I can't do this to him."
Her reaction surprises me. Up until this point, I have known Ashley to be a calm and collected adult. In this moment, she reveals her immaturity.

"Fuck that!" She outbursts. "He has a kid, I don't want deal with that shit."
"What do you mean?" I respond, "I love his son."
"Yeah, yeah, he's great but I don't want that. I want someone young and hot with no baggage."

I really can't blame her for such a desire, but I am disappointed that she has been stringing Shawn along if she has no intention of being with him. I start to formulate a response when we are interrupted again.

"Hey is Ashley in there?"

It was Shawn this time.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How am I going to explain that we have just been in here for close to five minutes for the sole purpose of wiping a little icing off my face? In an effort to quell suspicion, I reach again for the door handle, and with a quick "Get it together!" glance at Ashley, I threw the door open. There stands Shawn with his phone in hand, acting disinterested.
"Oh," he mutters, "what, were you two peeing together?"
He is clearly annoyed at the least, possibly more like "furious" - it's difficult to tell.
"Nah, she was just helping me get the icing out of my eye." I lie.

He makes eye contact with me for what feels like an eternity. Whether he realizes it or not, he is testing me. If my face cracks or wavers in any way, his subconsious lie detectors will light up like a Christmas tree. I call upon my years of experience playing tournament poker for assistance and my face remains stoic. He looks away after a few seconds, a concession that he either believes me or is willing to try to. I waste no time and walk right out of the bathroom and attempt to assimilate back into the party. Shawn stays behind at the bathroom door and starts speaking to Ashley. I have moved out of earshot at this point so I strike up a convesation with a slutty-looking blonde that I was pretend-flirting with an hour before. I have no interest in the blonde (Nicole? Natalie?), but it is my hope that Shawn will see me talking to her and assume that in my drunkeness I am simply extremely flirty tonight with all the females, not just "his" girl.
I feign interest and even exchange numbers with Nicole/Natalie before deciding to do something I hadn't done in a while - I need to take a walk. Walking aimlessly has always cleared my head and given me a chance to think things through alone before deciding on a course of action. If I can get a good walk in, I'll know exactly how to handle this juxtaposition.

I politely roll-off of my conversation with "Natacole" and walk out the front door into the night. It's a cool evening, a rarity for this time of year in Florida, and the wind whips at my clothing as I walk briskly down the sidewalk. Glancing upward, I start to pick out constellations and planets. Nerdy as it sounds, in times of stress I like to look at the night sky to remind me how small my problems really are in the grand scheme of things. Jupiter and Mars are particularly bright tonight, and I greet them aloud by name. It isn't long before I come across one of the many green electrical boxes that house the transformers that distribute electricity across this neighborhood. The transformer inside the box radiates heat and though I'm not feeling particularly cold, I sit on top of the box to enjoy it's warmth.
From my new perch, I withdraw my smartphone from my pocket. Sliding my finger across the screen to unlock it, I see that I've missed a call from my sister and that Natacole has already texted me. I quickly compose a text to Shawn: "Hey, ready to leave when you are." I want to say something about Ashley but I decide to tell him in person on the way home. Now that she is no longer in front of me, it's very easy to see that I need to inform Shawn of the things Ashley has said and the moves she has made. It will ruin my chances with Ashley (which is unfortunate because she is lucrative) but will preserve, if not strengthen my relationship with Shawn.

My phone informs me that my message has been sent and so I lean back for the moment and shoot another glance towards the Milky Way. Suddenly I hear acorns breaking and leaves crunching behind me. Footsteps.

I turn around quickly expecting a stranger. Unfortunately, it's Ashley.
"There you are," she says triumphantly, before quickly sitting down next to me on the electrical box. "I've been looking for you."
"Listen," I start, "this is a bad situation. We've both been drinking, Shawn is suspicious, I understand where you're coming from but you need to tell him that you aren't interested in a relationship with him." It felt good to be assertive.
Again, her retort caught me off guard. "Um, I've been nothing but upfront with him from the start. It's purely physical between us and at this point, I'm just glad that he introduced me to you."

Well... I wasn't expecting that. Again, my mind begins to churn. What if she was being truthful and Shawn had, in fact, been knowingly spinning his wheels this whole time? If she had told him not to read too much into their liasons, could she really be blamed if he had grown attached? This is not a decision that I want to make while drunk but I don't have much of a choice. Ashley is clearly a fellow master, and somehow, without warning, we are now making out again. She grabs my face with both hands and pulls it closer to hers. It feels like a very genuine display of affection.

This is bad. Here I am, under the stars with a girl that I can actually tolerate for once but the situation is horrendous. Any other time/place/situation and I'd be all about this but as the wine is metabolizing, I'm feeling worse and worse about what's already happened. Let alone the hand that is grabbing and rubbing at the back of my head as I'm lost in thought and the tongue that's grazing my tongue, "stopping the words from coming out" as Bright Eyes might put it.

Again, I suddenly hear acorns and leaves falling victim to shoes behind me. I instinctively break the kiss and turn swiftly. It's Shawn. Of course.
"Hey" he says, roughly 20 feet away and closing. His tone is calm and friendly... is it possible he didn't realize we were kissing?
"Hey" I respond.
"Are you ready to go?" He asks.
"Yeah, you?"
"Yeah, let's go."
I stand up and Ashley follows suit. I say nothing and fail to even acknowledge her as I step towards Shawn and we begin walking to his car in unison. I want so badly to say something - something to defer from the obvious akwardness of this situation. Something to let him know that I came here tonight with no ill intentions. Something to make myself seem less sinister. I can't think of anything, unfortunately.

We arrive at his car. I open the passenger door and start to sit down. "Okay, bye." Says Ashley, who has followed me to my door instead of following Shawn to his.
"Bye," I say, closing the door without so much as a glance her way. I am somewhat angry that she has put me in this situation.
She walks around the car. Hugs Shawn. Tells him goodbye. He goes for a kiss and gets rejected. I can't hear what they are saying. I don't want to.
Eventually Shawn sits down in the driver seat and turns on the car. He plugs his iPhone into his auxillary cable and puts on a Pandora station. We begin to roll forward. Underoath begins to play through his speakers.
I finally speak up. "So, I have to tell..." He cuts me off. "I know."

There is only music for several seconds.

"I'm sorry," I say.

Shawn says nothing, looks over at me, and turns up the music. As we both start to sing, he rolls the windows down. I am quite sure that we will have plenty to talk about tomorrow and there will likely be anger and pain. For the moment, however, we are two friends in a car listening to music and heading back to our house... and no matter what may happen, no one can take this away from us.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Verbatim Transcripts of Dialogues With Children, Part One

Child: Corbin, Age 4
Premise: Just chatting, speaking clearly and concisely to set a good example. We'll pick up randomly...

CA4: "Yeah, I 'member that 'cause of the "B" in my name."
JTV: "Oh, of course, I forgot there was a "B" in your name. Do you know the other letters in your name?"
CA4: "Yeah, a 'C'..."
JTV: "...Is that all?"
CA4: "An 'O'..."
JTV: "And?"
CA4: "R."
JTV: "Oh, that's it?"
CA4: "And 'I'.."
JTV: "I'm pretty sure there is one [cut off by Corbin]"
CA4: "How you draw an "I" is like this!" (Traces a lowercase "I" in the air with his index finger)
JTV: "That's absolutely right, that's a lowercase "I". Can you draw an uppercase "I"?"
CA4: "Uppercase?"
JTV: "Well yeah, there are two kinds of letters, lowercase and uppercase. Did you know that?"
CA4: "Yeah. My mommy told me that."
JTV: "Your mommy is a smart lady,"
CA4: "Yeah."

A.) Corbin's fore-brain is surprisingly focused for a little guy, demonstrated by the fact that he excluded the "B" in his name while he was spelling it to me because we had already talked about it and because I was asking him continually what "other/else" letters were in his name (besides "B"). Did you notice that when you read the transcript? I don't think I would have either if I wasn't semi-testing him in the first place.He passed, obviously.
B.) Corbin corroborates the opinion of the speaker that his mommy is, in fact, a smart lady.

Until next the mood strikes me,

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Manifesto

Under the moon and all of it's gloom,
I feel not a hint of sorrow.
Clouds and stars traverse the sky
As they race towards tomorrow.

When morning comes, what will succumb?
We never know for certain.
Patiently the world awaits
For dawn to draw the curtain.

The audacious child, I used to run wild.
All of the world was unknown.
At some point, we crossed the line
From growing kids to grown.

Swirling my glass, perched square on my ass,
I try to make out constellations.
Reminders, they are, of re-forming stars,
All life is simply rotation.

So what can they do? Or can me, or can you
To stop what is going to happen?
Your life is a ride from birth 'til you die,
So please keep your safety belts fastened.

Some things you cherish will leave or they'll perish,
And only their spirits will linger.
Like grains of sand held in your hand,
They'll slip right through your fingers.

You deal with the bad, for happier times
Are certain to follow the downswings.
Keep your friends close, for in those bad times
The voices of love are resounding.

And when times are high, oh how the time flies.
You live like you fucking deserve it.
You do things that later you'll grow to regret
But most of it? Totally worth it.

The highs and the lows, the jerks and the hos,
Are coming to meet you regardless.
I just mean to warn you, not trying to scorn you
Or sound like a man who's grown heatless.

So fear if you must, but it's me you should trust
When I tell you that life marches forward.
You've got plays to call, don't fumble the ball.
There's plenty of time on the scoreboard.

How we turn out is ours to find out,
But I've got some faith in you all.
It's not about how many times that you slip,
It's getting up after you fall.

So back to my view of the stars and our moon,
I'm calmer than monks in Tibet.
So sure and so certain as dawn draws the curtain,
That this morning comes like the rest.

Today will be yesterday tomorrow.
The world will continue to spin.
Life is a game with very few rules,
Make sure that you're playing to win.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

A Poem That's Not About You

The other night we took a walk,
For no reason but "to talk",
And afterwards I felt as though
We hadn't said a fucking thing.

Not that I had much to say,
Or cared for your words anyway,
But don't invite me for a "talk"
If your true goal is bantering.

Why converse if it's just mindless?
Why not simply walk in silence?
Enjoying nothing other than the
Sounds our heavy footsteps make.

For though I know that you adore me
Oftentimes you presence bores me,
A chance on you is simply not
A chance that I would ever take.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

A Night With Molly

It would be impossible to say for certain whether the powder we've been eating is actually sparkling, or if our brains are simply misinterpreting our surroundings. Motionless lumps of gelatinous cells, our brains, all firing synergystically so that we may move and think. It's far too beautiful to think about comfortably and far too complex to start talking about so I stifle the urge to speak. You fill the tip of a straw from the bag we've been sharing and measure out a dose with your eyes. "Back to the clouds?" You beckon. I oblige...
Moments later I feel my heart flutter in a good way, like when you unexpectedly run into someone you secretly feared you'd never see again. Back to the clouds, indeed. I ask a question in Spanish, not purposely, just because the preceding thought happened to be en Español.
You don't speak Spanish, but you speak my body language and you know my tones. You respond in English, and correctly. The realization that we're close enough that I don't even need to speak your language for you to understand what I'm saying is too delightful for my neurotransmitters to process so they do the same thing they've been doing for two hours now: flood my receptors with serotonin and dopamine. Curious chemicals, those two, as they allow you to experience pleasure and are technically the only two things you enjoy. On my back in bed with a smile glued to my face, I am definitely making the most of the seroto-pamine surplus when suddenly, without warning, you touch me. What had just been a surplus is now an overload.
A wave of energy surges through my body as though I had been electrocuted with happiness. My jaw clenches; back arches; shoulder-blades pinch towards each other like they were rubber banded together. Both eyes slam shut and unveil a color show on the screen in my mind.The electronic music pounding in my ears reaches a crescendo at the same time as I do. I don't ejaculate, but I come. Hard.

It would be impossible to say for certain how long I was in that moment, but I'm back now. Only the room is still dark. I'm still on my back in bed with a fluttering heart and a head full of wonder. The powder in the bag is still sparkling. I open my lips to speak but you beat me to it by milliseconds and since our brains are obviously connected, you say the same thing that I was about to say: "Let's do that again."
So we do.