Withdrawal is a horrible thing! Take for example a hangover. Sure, the night before was fun! Highly intoxicating interactions amongst a host of friends. Strange occurances, blurred vision, loud chatter, flashy lights, sexual tension, dancing, flirting, laughing, EUPHORIA!! Depending on the person and circumstances, there are many variations to this excitement. The more you consume, the later you stay awake, the longer it all last. Every person knows this routine, and every person fears the morning following it.

 

I suspect it was my turn. For what, I have no idea. Three days after my run in with Rico and I was still in pain. Every vital organ in my  body felt as if it was being twisted and strangled! I stood at the sink, dry heaving while trying to get down my second glass of ice-cold water. And then, it happened! It came over me like a vengeful and furious wave! Usually, I welcome the experience with open arms but not this time. My head was already spinning, my stomach churning. When being subjected to harsh conditions, the last thing a person wants is a flashback of hysteria. It was on its way, and I couldn't stop its arrival.

 "hahahaa, Hehehehee, MUAHAHAHA!!"

Thats all I heard when I saw the face of a madman waving that devilish opium pipe in my face! The wicked laugh alone was enough to put anyone over the edge.  I could've allowed it all to end there. Maybe if I had, then I  wouldn't be in the situation I find myself in today. 

"God! Hmmm, there is no God in this world!" Rico had said to me while I was        teaching him about the insight I recieved on my last trip.

He's words resonated throughout my being. Each hit off the pipe brought me face to face with a new reality .  I felt my existence with drawling from everything I knew to be true.

"THERE IS NO GOD!!" This time, he said it with such force and vigor, my very soul trembled.

I peered out from the blankets that were draped over my head and around my back. The room became cold and I looked down at my hands, which were no longer my hands.

"They're connected to my arm, they must be hands" I thought to myself. 

Terror seized me! I began screaming over the music, toward a girl who was sitting next to me.

"These aren't my hands, These aren't my **** hands!!"


She was senstive and mellow while asking "Then whose are they??"

My mind was racing, I kept asking myself this same question until it no longer mattered. I held tight to the blankets that enveloped my body. The music tickled every sense of my being as I laid back and melted into the floor.