I was at "
The Hole" (I've mentioned it in other
write-ups, but I'll give a summary: It's a
friend of mine's
house - and it
literally is a hole) last
weekend, after realizing that the
pub was too boring. There are some 6 people there.
So we smoke up - no big deal, I've done that before. Now, I'm a poor decision-maker when I'm stoned. Especially when I'm stoned.
Hey, you tried a bomb before?
What does he mean, I wonder. I don't know all the druggie slang. What is a bomb?
Like, a piece of toilet paper with amphetamine in it - an excellent rush
I sit around and think about it for a while. The fumes from the chillum makes rings in front me. Okay, I'll try one - I'm not gonna pay, though. (I guess this is my own feeble argument that it's not really abuse if you don't pay for it).
Okay, lemme fix one for ya
I don't feel a thing. At all.
I arrive back at the pub and then my conscience hits me. Back in the day, I punched him for doing the exact same thing. I feel horrible. Dude, I fucked up, please punch me.
What, what did you do?
You know what I did.
Smack!
That night, I learned that drugs equal feeling guilty.
I can still feel where he hit me. Which is a good thing.