what a long strange trip it's been

I was just really bored today. Nothing to do. So I thought, why not write a little something-something. The following might be based on true events, or it might not be.

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I think it was about 7, or maybe 6, on that mentally fatal Saturday evening that we dropped the first lot of LSD. The music was blasting, distorted from the speakers positioned on the floor. The room flooded with soft dimmed lights, candles creating just enough extra light for your mind to really go to work on you. We sat about, smoked, ranted, waiting for the drugs to hit.

Dan was there. Carlos. Kyle. Sorry, girls. Yeah, it was a sausagefest this time.

An hour passed. Boredom and frustration set in.

"This was supposed to be strong." I said, "I say we do the rest, I'm just not getting anything"

Now this statement was not entirely true, the arousal of faint double vision was there and the copper mouth too, lurking on the edge ready to bite you in the neck when you let your guard down. . The carpet began moving, faint Aztec and geometric patterns pulsing and turning into more of the same.

Now for the ultimate test. Check the mirror. Nah, I look normal.

Within ten minutes the living room took on orange and red hues soaking everything in it. Red and green neon darted over walls, furniture and people. There are people in the room. People are of no value. We can make more sometime if we need them. Life itself is only a vision...a dream. Nothing is as it seems. There is only empty space. You and me are but a lot.

I checked the clock; it took a while to aim at it but my sight broke through in the end.

Jesus, I thought, We only dropped the second lot twenty minutes ago. We may be in trouble.

The music had become drunken, I think it was Foreigner, but I couldn’t be sure. No. Dan doesn't like Foreigner.

The TV spilled images of green and yellow women onto breathing floors, stretched pallid skin with blue veins spat golden sparks of ozone. Wondrous stars absorbed by Arabic carvings. Pillars of gold and stone rose up to dark wooden structures, vines and fruit clung to them. High above African buildings that framed the swirling clouds rolling high above the ceiling.

Wait, now we're in Africa. But the Arabic carvings...

Primitive terracotta statues held back Dobermans on dirty ropes. Drooling froth and blood filled mouths of twisted teeth.

Reality struck hold for a second, I was lying on the sofa.

There was a massive rush. I remember images of massive freight trains hurtling towards me and then everything was green and alive.

Spanish women danced in circles of green and red, three and four arms stretched out their blue hands. Black skinned legs covered in elastic metal twisted and spun; leg's swapped sides and melted together into thorny structures glistening like eel skin. Red sky's filled with green and purple swirling clouds. Foreign skies, strange planets rose just off the shore of crashing alien seas. Jesus God, where's Jodie Foster? A cracked Earth of plain, dried, sun scorched yellow earth.

Green and white iced terrain spun off into space. Abandon ship goddammit, every man for himself. Then everything fell silent, hanging in a vast black hole pulling me into another vast universe; stars passed by at high velocity. I could see the void opening up before me, into our universe, the star patterns were recognizable to me, I seen this sky before. Dark asteroids passed on close by, smashing into discarded space junk; I wonder how long they have been there.

From behind me Earth rolled into view. Clouds clinging to it's surface, hanging over Africa again, casting a vast shadow down the continent.

Raining in Africa.

It's raining.

North Africa, to be more specific.

The music had stopped. The sudden realization of such abrupt silence rocked me, was this the point in the movie where you see the silhouette of the killer in the kitchen doorway, your own knife in his hand. There was no one in the room, or even the house it seemed, but me.

The rain lashed down outside I could here it spilling over the gutters and splashing down to the concrete patio area.

What the hell is that?

A figure stood on the mantle piece, fat pink worms slipped around his body and over the long trench coat.

Neon, green, red, purple green, red, purple. The figure slumped to the side, catching his step. On his shoulder a crow flapped it's wings frantically. The figure tries to move, he looks down. Two large nails, more like chisels, have been hammered through his feet securing him to a large resin stand. Undeterred, he wrenches himself free, propping himself on his Remington shotgun. He looks up at me.

He's a soldier, I thought, probably World War II. Hi, Tom Hanks. Steven Spielberg did a great job directing.

Blood covered his bandaged face and the gun was replaced with a cheap dirty wooden crutch. He limped forward a few steps then fell forwards. But he never hit the ground, the motion reversed, he recoiled back revealing a white skeletal face, a heavy black robe hid the rest of his body. He was sat in a great chair, in his right hand a large scythe, five foot long. The mists cleared behind him revealing a landscape that could only appear on a Yes album cover. No! I don't want that, is this all you can give me after all these years of loyalty, fucking Yes album covers. It was then I recognized the skeletal man, the image conjured up thoughts of childhood half dreams, in the time between as you're going to sleep and being sleep, and this guy was there.

Music began to creep in again. So did the green and red, little darts of light. The music got louder, the darts of light grow in number and ferocity. What music is that? If you don't know now, you never will. Someone was laughing at me. I wanted to get up and find out who this evil person was who would laugh at a man in this depraved state, but before I could make my move my head filled with numbers, thousands of them. All of them, traveling downwards, almost like they were being pushed. Now images, low resolution, photographs, electrical and digital diagrams. Faster now, texts I had never seen before in vibrant blues that turned into massive liquorice torpedo pills. Pieces of wire frame geometry came from all sides of me, heading towards my central point of vision. As they began to join up, the motion got faster, pieces shot past me at a hundred miles an hour, trails of deep yellow everywhere. The thing in front of me began shaking violently, pieces still smashing into place. It better stop in a minute, I thought, or there'll be hell to pay. Then the last piece, what looked like a fifty-foot long toilet brush, hurtled over head and slammed into the vibrating mass, sparks exploded everywhere. My god we're on fire, do something. The thing in front of me exploded, filling all my vision with white light.

"My head hurts," I blurted

How do I get out of this thing. Damn it, everything's happening so fast. The skeletal man appeared again. Jesus, he looks pissed.

"Bad news on the doorstep," he said.

I've heard that before. American Pie. Don...something. Shit. I love that song.

"I couldn't take one more step," he whispered. He opened my eyes with his.

The room seemed stark, dark. You could feel a vibe in the air. Something was coming. I remembered earlier in the evening, Guapa Morena had said something like, For the coming of it all. I didn't pay much attention at the time but now it seemed like there was something there. Did it mean something? What made me remember that earlier point of the evening, I couldn't remember anything else, just that one point in time. The more I thought about it, the more complicated it got.

Solid visible streams of music poured into the room, they looked like the reflections of a lake a foot above the ground, someone else had seen this trip before, I remembered seeing it on TV. A bunch of university professors got two volunteers to take LSD so they could witness the responses the two men had. One of the volunteers said he could see music coming out of the speaker. In my opinion this guy had done it before, he looked broken already.

Streams of this musical ribbon filled the front room.

There were four giant lizards on the wall playing cards over a table. They were all smoking and drinking cheap red wine. All the cards were on the table. Its like that painting. He leaned forward, laying down his hand, a royal flush. Top lizard leaned over the crap table to take his winnings; he looked up at me, grinning insanely. He wore a pair of those cheap imitation black Ray-Ban sunglasses.

The other three Lizards lunged for him, loosing their footing. All four tumbled out of the wall and onto the floor. As they hit, they sprouted torn ears, dirty brown fur, worm like tails and huge yellow claws.

I jumped up. "Jesus Christ Superstar, the room is full of rats!"

All the rats stopped and turned to stare at me then began talking amongst themselves. They seemed unsure as to whom I was talking about. "You better calm down man," came a voice, "I'd say you lost it right about now. Look at the state of you."