October 21, 2004

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  The apartment is dead silent, and my emotions are running on high from this spectacular book. I entered a sort of trance-like state while I was reading, so I though maybe writing a little would clear my head. Reading about people who are high, describing what they are doing when they are high always seems to set me into a surreal state, or at least sometimes. Maybe it’s because my own memories become clearer as my imagination fixes itself on an estimation of the activities I’m reading about. Can a person have flashbacks from weed, mushrooms, and alcohol? I’m starting to think you can. It’s happened to me more then once. But then again, I think maybe this sort of thing happened to me even before that time. I used to tell a close friend of mine when we were in elementary school that it was like I had a superpower that was useless. All it does is screw with my perception of things. It’s as if the world is pushing in on my mind, and reaching out to interact with it can only be done in an instinctive way. Like typing: I can type now only because it’s second nature to me. I can’t really do anything without concentrating on getting it out of my mind. Maybe I have some sort of imbalance that surfaces randomly.

  
  

  When I was talking to Becky the other day about our experiences with weed, she expressed hers as different from mine. I think what I was feeling what just what I am now, only amplified. The only other person I know who felt things like this stoned, and I mean really felt them, not just pretended because he thought it would sound cool, is the same friend I mentioned earlier. His name is Marty. His brother and father had schizophrenia. He was never quite on the same level as everyone else. I should look him up sometime soon.

  
  

  Well, this is officially the weirdest post I’ve written to date. I feel reluctant even to post it for fear of creating fear. But what the hell, this shit doesn’t happen to me all that often, so why not share the first time I’ve really tried to explain it. Writing it down, it seems to odd. But I always assumed it was normal. But it does seem rather odd.

  
  

  The first time I can remember it happening, I must have been younger then grade 2. I was sitting on a chair, sitting backwards of a chair, and the room sort of became surreal. Everything faded to black and white, and I couldn’t get out of my mind. I was stuck in my head, and to the best of my efforts I couldn’t interact with the world. I think I was starring at a baby sized rocking chair, trying to get up and move it. My trance was broken when my older sister walked into the room.

  
  

  Another time, I had the flu. This was the weirdest of them all when I wasn’t on drugs. I’ve always attributed it to hallucinations that one can get when they have a fever. I was lying in bed, and I fell into my mind again. But this time, everything that was touching me started pressing in. I got up and took off my clothes so they couldn’t press in. My mom found me and tried to get me to put something on. She found me my baggiest shirt, but I still couldn’t handle it. I’m not sure what happened after that.

  
  

  When I get it now it’s not so extreme. I can usually snap out of it by getting up and walking around some, or trying to take my attention of it. Sometimes though, like now. I just let it go. It’s an odd feeling, and it’s sometimes a welcome change from normality. Maybe that’s why I loved drugs so much. The change from normality. Heh, come to think, it’s really more like a cheap high. Not near the calibre of a drug, but for much cheaper. Maybe I should stop writing before you all think I’m insane. Maybe it’s to late for that.

  • 11:18 pm
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