about 4 years ago, under the influence of william t vollmann and other sordid authors who follow me on subways, buses and coffee shops everywhere, i began a six month long effort to procure and try crack cocaine.
there are, i believe, services that will enable this quite simply, for a fee, so that you don’t have to leave white, successful enclaves you might not want to leave. i didn’t have access to these services, they are significantly different from the pot service you might use now, harder to find and more awkward to ask about.
the effort was more focused on logistics then anything else. i had a live-in girlfriend who wouldn’t approve (the emotional wall between us is worth its own post) and a highly professionalized job from which this was to be kept secret.
you need time to smoke crack in secret. time to go buy it, to find a place to smoke it where the crass odor won’t linger, and time to recover from the cranky monster you’re about to become. it’s frankly a pain in the ass.
but the high.
words can’t do this justice. i’ve tried a lot of drugs. they’re all hard to describe. but this one might be the most special. you can be god, briefly, if your brain responds correctly. mine does. you feel empowered, free from real constraints.
the high lasts seconds, maybe a minute. but the low is pretty rough. you feel spent, possibly shamed, and general wasted away.
i tried this three, four times. not much. not enough to get into trouble. but it was fun, i liked it. i’m willing to admit it was a stupid idea, though.
i mention this now, because that feeling, back in my head, that rush, is the feeling i might have when we come together tonight. drugs, alcohol and sex are a mix to me, not just as vice, but sensation. i try to separate them but i fail.
it can’t be the best association, but it can’t be the worst either.
i’m glad to have discovered that we have this in common, but you need to know, that for an instant, one split second, all i’m thinking about is that old fix. then i’ll be back with you.
