Bad Trip

Description of a bad trip I had recently

I hit it three times

Just weed, no frills,

it was a smoky uni room,

all chill no thrills.

 

Across from me was Pavel and

he could see me unravelling,

My eyes betrayed the struggle,

of my mind and body battling.

My body’s gone, numbed by the mist

but my minds telling me,

hey a*****e tomorrow still exists,

work starts at 9 and you’re still getting pissed?

All this cos you can’t prepare

for another day, desperately clinging

on to a good vibe or feeling,

but give two minutes to the future

and it sets your mind reeling.

What do you even do?

What have you even done?

Light up, drink more say it’s just fun.

What’s the f*****g point?

 

Another voice chimes in"

watch where your facing,

it’s been five minutes and

you’ve said nothing this conversation.

Get out the room.

You’re not useful here,

drop your bag on the floor,

right next to your beer.

Get up.

Say some words.

Then move on out to the stairs,

slowly along the bannister,

then through to the stalls,

now down on your phone,

time to make some calls.

Let Joe know,

he’ll tell you what to do.

       

                  But as I opened my phone…

 

Look at the life you were given,

you had money and time,

so why aren’t you driven?

You can’t even commit to drugs,

so you drive shot gun

to a culture you’re not living.

But when it’s not fun,

you curl up and start whinging.

                                           (Call him…)

When you want a cig,

you sit on your phone and scroll it

cos both you and all your friends know,

that you’re dumbass can’t roll it.

And now you’re gonna call him!

      (You need his help….)

Waste more of his time,

yet another person shepherding

your a*s into line!

 

Listen up.

He won’t respond.

Go back to his room,

lay on the bed

and you’ll be fine.

Pick the bag up tomorrow,

find your wallet in the morning,

sleep until your sober.

 

    I made it to the bed.

 

Oh great now you’re in his bed,

face down on a pillow,

looking basically dead.

 

Keep focussed on tomorrow"

 

He’s in the pub waiting,

he paid for your San Miguel,

while you’re sitting here,

in virgin stoner hell.

 

Remember work starts at 9:15,

pick up your bag"

 

Can’t relax when you’re high,

so f*****g typical.

You’re so close to the edge,

free from conditioning,

so fall!

 

You’re gonna be ok, you won’t be fired.

 

Fall!

Know that true freedom exists"

it’s a choice!

You can make it!

 

Sleep now

 

But no, only the truly free take it.

 

Joe’s here

 

People like you,

will continue to fake it.

 

 

When I woke up,

I got my bag,

made sure I had my wallet and phone,

then went to work,

the rest of my friends were in bed.

Author's Note

Was trying to get across the schizophrenic nature of a bad trip and how you feel divorced from your own thoughts, it doesn't feel good but I'm glad I felt it.

Reviews

[KT-B]

I liked this a lot, it felt to me like having a smoke, drink whatever started off as fun but now being used to escape the reality of life and is now a hindrance, stopping you from being your best - I feel like this on a sunday night when I can't have too many drinks or I just won't be able to function at work.. and it sucks cos it feels like the partys over - good work, I admire your honesty in your writing :)

[Hell in a Hip Flask]

Thanks for the review :) yeah that's pretty much what I was aiming for, you know trying to capture that point where escapism goes too far and you kinda lose control

[KT-B]

I totally got that - I really enjoy your writing :)