high blood pressure ·
2 July 04

What the hell?

NO FRUIT JUICE? Of all the days, when I need it and want it. I had to settle for Robinson’s Summer Fruits. It’s very shitty to be drinking watered fruit juice. All of them contain water, but dammit, this was special. This was my moment. This was my glory hour, my moment of euphoria. Perhaps over dramatic, but why the hell not? It’s not often I make a fanfare of anything.

The glass contains a spook with a plastic handle. It’s white, and has a modicum of design. The aesthetic appeal of spoons has never been attention grabbing for me. This is no different: metal spoon, plastic handle. Perhaps that could be the third movie in the Crouching Tiger vain. Visionaries 2 disc DVD sits on my desk, amongst the pile of papers which includes a letter from the NHS asking me to make my appointment with Opthalmology. I keep forgetting, but since I made a fuss and after five years got an answer, I should make the effort. I told myself this morning I would remember since it was next to the joint. I took the joint, but not the letter.

I detest the idea of mixing my capsules with watered fruit drink. It’s artificial after all; how much fruit would it contain? Probably not a lot. I expect someone pissed in it to give it a zingy spicy flavour. Chilli Juice would be interesting, but it probably wouldn’t be successful outside of India or thereabouts. The fuckers eat chilli like sugar. Sick fucks. I bet they bleed more blood out of their asses than I drink water. I wonder if people in Chili like Chillies. Maybe it’s their national food. They sometimes eat it with their morning cereal, or shred them in their milk before bed. “Drink the milky chilli son! So you can be big and strong and look after mamma and papa.”

I felt a snap, water welled in my eyes as I bit my lower right of lip off

So I have done some sums. Estimations actually. I was crap with numeracy and maths. Intelligent I am, and I could have been great in Mathematics. I was at one point, acing everything in my exams. Then I had 4 evil teachers, one of which seemed to be from another country and her English was more Engrish than anything else. She had big tits, which bounced around as she walked up and down the floor. The guys noticed this. The girls noticed this. She must have been in early forties, with the weather and age ruining her face and turning her tits into sagging potatoes. They still had a firmness, but it had all but disappeared. She looked like something out of a terrible Spanish TV series. The dubbing would probably go thus:

“Your wife is your sister!” says the jealous ex-husband
“No! Raul! Don’t tell him!” she says
“He needs know to you bitch!” says the jealous ex-husband, gripping a mop with both hands
“Go to hell! I will take my kitchen utensils back to the shop, by the time I come back, I want my omelette cooked and ready for dispatch.” she says as he puts on her UPS outfit. The tits barely squeeze in.
“Dear Lord! What has Spain come to?! ZORRO! Where are you?” says the confused husband/brother. Was Zorro Mexican or Spanish? I forget…

What a crappy show. It was probably called, “Lover Sister” and shown early on UK TV to fill the graveyard slot. Insomniacs would find it either amusing for its lunacy, or offensive for it’s lack of cohesion. The Spanish programme and the Mathematics was distracting me from my mission to get high.

I decided to take the only box of Outer Spaced capsules I had, and took a box of the LXD I took previously. I had come to the conclusion that direct digestion was the best method for immediate effect and best results. Having taken 12 before, and needing to get to work tomorrow, I have decided to reduce the dosage to 8 capsules: 6 outer spaced, and 2 LXDs. The sadness of not having fruit juice means I need to make the drink before I add the contents of the capsules. Let us proceed.
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The drink tastes quite good, not bad for cheap shit. Time to add the capsules. I’ll start with the LXD. Unlike the Spaced Cadets and Druids Fantasy, these capsules were soft and don’t contain much. No wonder I was disappointed by the result. I would need to go to plan B and take all 12 of the capsules. The 6 capsules of LXD have been added, getting excited now. Now to add the Outer Spaced. A quick mix of the drink before adding the Outer Spaced has resulted in it looking like real red shit. Quality.

It took me three attempts to consume the fucking LXD. Lesson one folks: The LXD does not dissolve, it floats. It floats like a relentless turd. What a son of a bitch. Drinking it down was akin to drinking fruit juice…which contains gravel. Lots of it. It was bad, so bad. It didn’t taste bad, but the gear could be tasted, and the coarse feeling of the bits was obvious. I wanted a drink, not a glass of hardened dog shit.

The Outer Spaced looks dodgy. I opened a capsule, and the contents were hard and sticky. I suspect, and perhaps this is an important point, it is spiked rat droppings. Otherwise, I am just consuming rat droppings. 6 droppings to be precise. It smelt a little bit crappy, and to try dissolve that in my drink would be a bad idea. This really would be turd in water. 6 turds in water. I didn’t watch the shit float before I drank it. I’ve decided to swallow them one by one without their shells. It can’t be that bad right? Fucking hell, this drink is terrible. It’s making my lips dry. I know it’s called Summer Fruits, but I wouldn’t expect this bastard to sun up my lips and crack them dry. I should sue them.

The Plaintiff – Jin vs The Defendent – Robinsons Fruit Drinks

The claim: Summer Fruits does not dissolve my drugs. It dries my lips. BAD MAN Mr Robinson!

She looked like something out of a terrible Spanish TV series

I can see why Mrs Robinson left him. He probably dried her cunt when he ventured in Robinson’s Vaginal Cream. Once he decided he couldn’t sell it, he started to put it in his drinks. He must have been reeling when Dustin Hoffman banged his wife. She seduced without the vaginal cream. It was supposed to make her horny, instead it turned her pussy into a dry prune fit for storing cleaning equipment.

Time for the Outer Spaced. I’m feeling quite warm, and I think I cracked a smile. Damn the smile and it’s evil ways. Too much water I think, I need to add more vaginal cream to my drink. It may make my lips dry, but it’ll help the medicine go down. Back in the day, I bet anyone would have shagged Mary Poppins. Can’t think of her real name right now, but I bet she flew when she was banged. The medicine went down all right, and she wiped her mouth and smiled gratefully. “Please Sir, Can I have some more?” Sure you can bitch, wait right their while I gather the soldiers. One by one they’d hit her face, she’d be a victim of war and request early leave. However, in this war, no one gets discharged early. Not even the soldiers. She would grin and bare it. That’s loyalty for you. A mouth and face full of cum, and she just shows her teeth requesting more. Down boy. I’m not looking forward to the Outer Spaced anymore. But I am her general, if I can swallow the Outer Spaced, she can consume more cum.

Two down, more to go. The plate of chips, fingers, onion rings and beans are looking delicious right now. I am buzzing momentarily. Visionaries, hold fire, I will arrive. Patience my friends, soon we will be reunited in a state of something. My eyes blurred for a moment, I feel slower, snappy in awareness. Things are going well. I assure you now, this shit does not increase the size of your penis. Fact. Holy jesus, I’m going through this vaginal cream quick. Maybe it’s meant to be addictive. I WANT MY FUCKING FOOD. My stomach has a touch of knots. It’s kicking in. This could be interesting. A little bit more to consume. All gone. Time to eat. I feel weird. Good weird, slightly bad weird. I feel a touch of paranoia. Why do my hands look like claws? Food.
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I couldn’t finish the food, I am now shaking like a fucking tree in a the eye of the storm. I can hardly type. I feel weird. Very weird, my stomach feels bloated and chaotic. My bladder is playing ping pong, and it’s not funny. I feel very cold. This reminds of when I was on paroxetine. It gave me cold shivers, it contracted my spine and I ended up looking like a curled up animal dying from a bloody death. I was addicted to it in some sense, it made me zombified after the effects passed – which about half a day. It stopped me from sleeping, I became, numb and even more isolated than I had before. I feel the same now, I shouldn’t take this shit, as it’s pretty crap and it’s making me feel bad, and I feel sort of sick. My nerves are rumbling with something, I don’t know if I thinned my blood or whatever. Actually, now I think about it, I think I understand now why it’s a dietary supplement. IT IS thinning my blood! Jesus! It’s thinning my blood and making the blood flow faster, so this shit can in effect damage me long term I think. I’m not sure, but it’s messing me about. The Space Cadets and Druids Fantasy were far superior. This is just cheap thrills, with little thrills, and too much work and effort. Too many side effects. It’s pretty bad. I’m glad I didn’t order more of these. We’ll all end up as extras from Somalia: The Movie Starring Stick Men on Dietary Supplements.

I think realising this is perhaps making things worse. Like when you’ve stabbed yourself, and it’s only until you become aware of what you are actually doing, and you see the blood you sort of realise, “Ah, this isn’t good is it.” and you come to your senses. The same with this, but then the fear and realisation makes your blood flow faster. Which means you’re putting excessive stress on your body. Being able to think this through means that I am mostly in control. Which is a good thing. I need sugar.

When you embark on something for kicks, I guess you sort of lose the rationale of why something works and why doesn’t. I didn’t finish my meal, I couldn’t finish my chocolate. Why? I’ve pissed a lot, and I’ve been feeling hot. Why? It’s because these pills are designed to stop you from wanting to eat, they are designed to reject food and contract your stomach so that you can only consume the bare minimum. The more pills you take the less you can eat, the more probable damage you are doing to your body. I am shaking because of the blood flow, because I lack energy through lack of eating. Who needs slim fast when you got this shit?

I would need to go to plan B and take all 12 of the capsules

Still, having said all that I am buzzing in a strange way. I feel sleepy as hell, which is probably an effect of the drug. I close my eyes and I see a yellow thing with a white mouth. It’s an oval shape, with another smaller oval for the mouth, with teeth, and out of it there are cones with the bigger end sticking out. I see different colours, a way of my brain to cope with the speedy changes taking place. The right side of my body feels weak. The area around my lower rib cage in the right hand side is feeling some slight poking pains. Perhaps the guy with the knife will stop stabbing me for a moment, while I figure this out.

One good thing that has come out of all this is I found the Man or Astroman? track I always looked for: Theme from Eeviac which is just a short, cool instrumental. I particularly loved the video. Man or Astroman? are about as far as you can get from commercialism, without sacrificing talent in the name of pretentious twaddle. They write good music, they take samples, they mix, but they do it with the love of electric guitars with a 60s/70s rebellious attitude, spruced for the modern age with their own injection of style. They’re different, but they rock. I find Muse pretentious, but I do like their music. I guess ego is good sometimes, and they have a pretty big ego. Everyone is so blase about “their artists”. “They don’t believe in this, they do it for the music” Right, by taking a couple of quid off you eh? SUCKER! Everyone’s in it for the money, and for spreading their music. Loyalty to bands is as gay as loyalty and devotion to actors and actresses. Is it not ludicrous to symbolise anyone other than yourself to be God? Is it being arrogant to think of yourself as above any idol you may have? Because they are known, it makes them important? Self doubt and questioning must be part of this drug’s effect. Interesting.

Something in me says I can talk all night. Though, I feel aggressive, angry, agitated, and self-loathed. I was in a room, in this state, and I sat quietly. I rocked a little, back and forth. Humming the tune in my head. At the same time, he started talking to me again, but no one could hear.

We talked for hours, we discussed how they would die, whether they would get me first, or whether it would be a draw. I wanted to bite their necks, tearing off their flesh. I wanted to see the after of that. I wanted to stick my fingers inside that wound, and pry in between the throat and all the flesh surrounding it. I could feel my fingers getting wet, and sticky, the guts falling over my fingers as they traveled down to the stomach, or just stroking my fingers.
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I wanted to smother myself in that blood, the spraying, the feeling of it on my face. I wanted to taste the flesh, and dig my teeth inside; feeling and testing the tenderness. It’s not so hard inside, get past the skin, and it’s like sponge between your teeth. I want to lick the blood, which leave a metallic after taste. I could see him choking, looking at me with his eyes, dying, trying to keep me away from his neck. It was too much pleasure, how could he deny this? I wanted more. I moved both my hands inwards, with my knuckles touching, and separated the neck from the head. It wasn’t a clean removal, the skin on the other side had kept in place.

His eyes kept its fixation on me, they still moved strangely. I smiled and forced my fingers inside the sockets. I flushed out the eyeball. I took a bite. It was soft, sickening. I wanted to through up, as my body rejected the eye. I finished it. It was gone. I licked my fingers. I was enjoying this. I used my teeth to make a tear in the skin, and tore the remainder of the skin, pulling off the head, which feel across the room, hitting the leg of the chair and leaving a trail of blood and fleshy remains. I bit the spinal column that hung out, limp. I bit it hard, and it hurt. It pierced through my cheek. I puked. I removed the spine which left a hole in my cheek. I sucked in all the blood that gather in my mouth and gulped it down. The taste was something I was getting used to.

I pushed my hand inside the hole where his neck once was. I forced my hand deeper inside, feeling around all the spongy organs that lay in wait for me. I felt what seemed like the heart. It was covered, protected by the cage. It forced my hand in an awkward position. I felt a snap, water welled in my eyes as I bit my lower right of lip off. The blood followed, and I sucked this back in. I could feel the air coming through my cheek. I was angry, I wanted more, I wanted to destroy this body. But which one? I dragged out my broken left hand. I sniffed, and wiped the snot off my nose. The dribble of blood continued from my cheek downwards. I was too fucked to care about this and let it bleed.

It gave me cold shivers, it contracted my spine and I ended up looking like a curled up animal dying from a bloody death

It didn’t trickle, it oozed and dribbled, like thick, warm, strawberry juice. I looked at my now redundant hand. “FUCK YOU” I screamed at it, I smashed it against the wall. I placed my hand on the floor. I took the rubber cap off the chair leg until it left the square metal hole which was the end of the leg. I stood up, with my hand under the chair leg, and smashed down with my ass on the seat. I smashed again and again, the pain was unbearable, I almost fainted, having lost so much blood. I continued to smash it. My redundant hand was no longer a hand. It had turned into a skeleton with hanging flesh. I didn’t realise, but the chair leg had pierced through. Upon rising it ripped off the skin. I look at my hand. I smiled, and I ate it. I licked the flesh first, removing as much blood as I could. Personal preservation, I don’t know. It felt the right thing to do. I licked it, the flesh was more visible now, but blood kept coming back. I had popped more than enough veins and cappileries. My hand was a blood bath.

Everyone else stood on the otherside of the room. Watching me. One of them was masturbating. She was getting her kicks. “Freak” I thought when I saw her do this. The others kept an eye on both, I’m sure, in that room, everyone was feeding their own sick desire and fantasies. They were all as strange as me, I just happened to feed my instinct with the desire it craved.

Blood. So much blood. Every where. The walls, the ceilings even. The head near the chair leg had gone. It was now in the hands of an old man, who was stroking it lovingly. It kissed the forehead and looked at me with disdain. “Fuck you old man” I thought as I started him back in the eye. I snapped off all the bones I could see, bar the middle one. I raised it at them all.

“FUCK YOU ALL. You’re ALL cunts.”

The room went white, and then, it went dark. I don’t remember what happened after that. I don’t know where I am now. I just feel the rage inside. The anger. The hurt. No one is here. No one can here me. There is only silence.