Saturday, January 06, 2007

 

Imagie

So, You Just Took Your First Hit of Acid ...

The most important thing to remember is: you just took some acid. This might seem like an obvious point to you right now, but trust me – in a few hours you will find yourself asking, "What did I do to my brain? Is my brain broken? Am I going to think this way for the rest of my life?" Always remember: You took some acid. You will be fine. In about twelve hours. Probably.
The second most important thing to remember is: You took the acid on purpose. No one made you take it. The Merry Pranksters didn't slip some in your Kool Aide at a love-in: no -- you meant to take it. You wanted to feel this way. All this confusion -- the disorientation, the hallucinations (if you're lucky, and scored some good shit) -- this is what you wanted. This is what you planned for the evening. Acid is a lot like a Haunted House at Halloween – if you were just walking down the street and some dude in that mask from Scream jumped out at you with a knife – you would NOT enjoy it. But if you paid for it, and you knew it was supposed to be happening, it's a good time.
Acid is just a haunted house that's inside your head. That lasts for twelve hours. That you bought from some dude who's a friend of a friend. Good, laugh-at-the-carpet-for-four-hours-acid can be a real treat. (If you scored something else -- speed cut with Robotussin and God knows what else – less so. But try not to think about that right now. ) Either way – you already took it and there's nothing you can do about it now. Get that through your head, too. Say it out loud: "I just took acid, and there's nothing I can do about it now." Sometimes that helps.
Other things to remember: Often, when you do acid for the first time, there's some dude there who says something like: "hey, don't worry about it man, I've done a lot of acid, and I'll be your Tour Guide." Or your "Flight Attendant." Whatever happens – stay the fuck away from that dude. Sure, an experienced tripper is good to have around, but anybody offering that kind of help from the get-go is trouble. He's a sick, degenerate freak on a power trip, who'll take less acid than you just so he can get off on feeling superior, (which he never gets to do, unless surrounded by folks who are tripping their balls off.) The last thing you need is to have that smug little Charlie Manson wannabe around, telling you that "you're doing it wrong." Even if that not what he's saying, that's what he's thinking – (and on acid, there is no difference.)
Lastly: have some orange juice in the fridge. When you're a few hours into the trip, someone might remember "hey, I heard drinking orange juice increases the visuals." ("Visuals" is an acid term: a harmless enough sounding label that can mean anything from the walls appearing to breath, to your best friend's skin sliding off his face. One time the guy on the album cover of The Cramps' "Bad Music for Bad People" climbed off the LP, took me into a limousine and talked to me about Hell. He said it wasn't that bad. That's what I mean by "visuals.") Anyway, someone will remember that rumor about orange juice, and then you'll all go pour and drink some orange juice. Whether the rumor is true or not, the important thing is: You all got your shit together enough to pour and drink some orange juice – and at this stage, that'll feel like you've truly accomplished something. Something that was logistically as difficult as Operation Overlord on D-Day. And you pulled it off. You're fucking rocket scientists, and one day you'll be the ones people come to for answers and leadership.
Let's see… what else. Avoid things that might stress or freak you out. Like people, clocks, mirrors, urinals, the Printed Word, money, junk food, healthy food, and especially THE MAN. (think about how hard it is for me. I mean, I am THE MAN. Every time I look in the mirror, I'm face-to-face with THE MAN. It can be rough...
Oh, and I've known some folks who had a pretty rough time dealing with their cutlery drawer.
The most important thing: Enjoy the ups and downs. Enjoying starting to freak out that the confusion won't stop or even lighten up enough for you to enjoy your trip. Then enjoy pulling your shit together, and being filled with pride that you made it though the roughest patch of your young adult life. Then enjoy the fact that you didn't really "make it through" anything – you've just been sitting on the couch in silence for five minutes, and you still have 10 hours of this shit to go. Remember -- it's only the acid; you'll be just fine.
Oh – and don't try to cook anything in the oven. Bad idea – you'll forget it's in there. Order Dominoes. You won't be able to eat it, but at least the delivery boy will be a horrible Night-of-the-Living Dead looking nightmare, with acne so bad it's sliding into the pizza, and an accent that's so thick, you can't understand a fucking word he says – you can only give him your cash and lock the door in terror and confusion.
And that's always fun.

Comments:
You forgot "unplug the phone, and ditch the cell." You don't want to be on the phone... there are PEOPLE on the other end!
 
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