Suggested Audio Candy:

 

[1] Jolly Roger “Acid Man”

[2] The Garden of Eden “Serpent in The Garden”

[3] Lynne Hamilton “On The Inside”

[4] Fast Eddie “Acid Thunder”

[5] Break The Limits “Paranoize”

 

By my count I make it twenty minutes since I dropped. So far I haven’t received any indication that this acid isn’t a dud; I feel absolutely no different, no garish colors or vivid hallucinations, just a mildly annoying taste in my larynx which suggests the piece of blotting paper has become lodged. I’m mildly disappointed but remain hopeful, after all, this is my very first time on LSD and I have no real inkling as to how these things ordinarily play out. Some say that thirty minutes is sufficient for the drug to course through your system so, by that estimation, things should begin to get a lot more interesting around here in the next ten minutes. However, I am venturing into the unknown; all that I have is my own vague expectation and that isn’t a whole lot to go on. I’m anticipating wonderland; fully expecting to plummet through the looking-glass and into some hallucinatory dream state unlike anything I have ever experienced. Other than that, I’m venturing forth blind.

I have a particularly lurid imagination; thus I am fully expectant of something mind-blowing and remain excitable about the prospect. It’s not as though I will be bereft of inspiration as all manner of strange creatures inhabit my psyche and have done since I first learned how to talk. In primary schooling, my tutors would often find my artwork rather alarming and, at one point, even called my parents in just to gage how things were at home. They were fine and my childhood was no more traumatic than any other six-year-old, but there was certainly something amiss inside that head of mine. Actually, I prefer to refer to my gift as a little added extra as it enabled me to access an exclusive place in my head others simply couldn’t fathom. I started chasing the white rabbit very early on in my life and the little bugger is still always two steps in front, thus I only ever get a mouthful of tail feathers. Hopefully LSD will slow the rascal down and enable me to run my fingers through his mane.

Still nothing. I’m looking around expecting an epiphany at every turn and not a solitary hint is forthcoming at this juncture. Nothing feels elevated or contradicting; the world is just spinning as it always does. My partner in crime Ed is similarly downbeat; neither of us have received any visitation from multicolored unicorns or translucent pixies thus far. What a racket! Looks like we have been well and truly shafted; some unscrupulous heathen has just made away with five of our English pounds in return for a taste of stationery. I’m massively disappointed as this was supposed to be mind-altering; an opportunity to witness the world through psychedelic spectacles and a chance to gather intelligence on the mysteries of the universe. I just glanced over at Ed and his look confirms that we have been had. Neither of us have a two tenpence between us to rub together so I guess the only course of action is to cut the evening short and return home melancholic.

Holy shit smugglers…it’s all going off here at the moment. I have no clue where to begin as, right now, I’m inside a psychedelic snow globe of sorts and somebody just gave it a major shake. Everything was normal right up to the moment I opened the door and took my first step outside. Apparently the drug took effect while we were still holed up in our quarters but it took that sudden shift of perspective to remind us we were very much under starters orders. Where to begin? Okay, all the coloration has changed; all surrounding woodland is a garish green and appears to be popping-up from the backdrop like a children’s book. My sense of distance has changed or, more accurately, my environment has altered considerably. I feel akin to Crash Bandicoot, standing at the level hub pondering which to select. Should I move northbound then I shall have to overcome paving slabs which appear uprooted and move in random. West offers a similar conundrum; with tarmac which appears to have softened and turned back to fresh cement. East would be a ludicrous choice as the brick wall beside me appears to have gained its own respiratory system and looks ready to swallow me whole. Then there’s South; but I have no intention of traveling backwards. Should I return to that tool shed then the whole experience could be over and I’m having far too many a frolic to consider copping out now.

First things first; I shall consult my checklist. Study limbs in movement: that’s my first note to self. Wow, I’m really glad I did. My hands leave behind them a trail of replication; kind of like a peacock revealing its array of feathers. I could spend the rest of my trip fixated with the patterns at my disposal but my research need be more thorough than shadow puppets at dawn. Study associate’s features: Again wow, although laced with gulp. His eyes have mysteriously vacated their sockets, leaving behind them two cavernous fissures. It’s not even as though they appear cleanly scooped, there is all manner of nerve tissue flailing around each chasm and anybody of a weaker disposition would be perilously close to that infamous bad trip they speak of. As for me, this is my primary outing, I intend on remaining unflappable and taking each smooth with its rough.

Look into the darkest recess of your immediate surroundings: That would be the recreational park to our northwest. It’s so shrouded in mist that I can barely make out anything but wait…what is this? A fully derobed man walking his dog across the moor. Could my eyes be deceiving me? It appears not as my affiliate has concurred that, indeed, that dude is butt naked. Now confusion has began to show its face; we have both seen it with our very own eyes and acid can’t be held responsible for this one. What an absolute bag of spanners; is he not aware that is mid-November? Moreover, has he been sent here to spy on us from afar? If so, then I would have suggested a black mackintosh and matching galoshes, not an eyeful of schlong and accompanying bean pie. We allow him to gather any reconnaissance mainly due to the fact that we are both stunned into absolute silence by his audacious actions. Once he has departed, it’s back to that checklist.

Attempt full body motion: Look…I am walking. I’m sure I fit in marvelously with my surroundings despite the fact that my entire exoskeleton has been replaced with a jellied eel. On the plus-side, I have found a fresh spring in my step, who would have thought mobility could be so much damned fun? Mind you, when you possess the feet of a rabbit, I guess it’s time to expect that unexpected. You are correct in your assumption; as we speak I have three toes, each as furry as the last, and they appear to be moving of their own free will to boot. I have no idea where to look; my arms have become flailing snot tendrils and are moving independently to one another and my torso looks akin to marshmallow in a vice so…you tell me…where shall I fix my attention? If I continue at my current rate of knots I should make it home (fifty yards) by around midnight (one hour and forty-three minutes). Hopefully things will have leveled out by then.

Make quick pit stop at friend’s domicile: This should help massively. I couldn’t possibly return home yet as I am still hugely under the influence. We approach the front window and his mother is upstairs so the coast appears clear. After spending an eternity deciphering the key chain we locate the instrument of entry and bundle inside ever so quietly but, in truth, very loudly indeed. The television set is glowing from the edge of my peripheral vision. It couldn’t hurt to catch up on current affairs while we’re here right? Attempt to keep a straight face at Prisoner Cell Block H extras: Cast your mind back and forget Vinegar Tits for a second. Remember the other screws; the ones not paid a princely enough sum to utter a single word. They ghosted in and out of scenes and instead of hello would enter the room with a dismayed shrug or nod. Those guys are hilarious; their heads are all really peculiarly shaped and, just to top things off, there’s Lizzie Birdsworth looking like a Jim Henson reject.

Hold in your bladder as Afro-mom approaches: This is by far our sternest test yet. Ed’s mom is proud owner of a tidy middle-aged lady perm and wears thick-rimmed bifocals. As we hear her slipper hit the top stair we hold that breath and prepare for the most excruciating few seconds of our entire lives. A look to my left reveals that the extras are still filing in to Cell Block H but I must put them out of my mind or I will fail in any attempt to remain normal. Nothing has prepared us for the sight we are about to be made privy to. That perm has upgraded to seventies Afro and the glasses to transparent wagon wheels. Breathe once again: I may never again laugh as gutturally as I do in this moment. I feel like I am about to implode so the only course of action is to exhale gently. Like fuck; I almost spit out my dentures on her sofa as our disco diva bounds down the last few steps.

Resist Medusa’s gaze: Oh God…her eyes…they’re like…Sentinels!! If Johnny 5 went for his annual optician appointment then he would likely be prescribed these optical monstrosities. The retinas burn on impact so I frantically endeavor to escape lock-on but it’s just delaying the inevitable as each is engineered to act as search lights. If Steve McQueen had attempted to escape these harbingers of horror then his film would have been titled The Big Fat Waste of Time. Eventually, after a titanic struggle which lasts 0.75 picoseconds, I succumb to their glare and my dilated pupils are exposed for the Tell-Tale-Tess x 2 that they really are. She knows, surely she does, our adventure has been compromised in the 11th hour by the bodach with the bouffant. Abort: I’m sorry Ed, really I am. Truly. I’ve got 99 problems and a bitch ain’t one. I leave with my tail between my legs. I’m not even kidding about the tail either.

Homeward bound: I hadn’t banked on the Spanish Inquisition. Mother number two, this time closer to home, is affectionately preparing a delightful sandwich upon my arrival. I’m less than thrilled and hang back in the undergrowth awaiting my opportunity to stealthily advance. One elongated moment in time becomes around an hour in my mind and, at this point, I am betrayed by my feeble shell. It’s the bladder’s blunder; blame my piss-satchel for malfunctioning at the worst possible juncture. If I don’t make my way inside then I will be dancing in urine thus I decide it is high-time I bite the bullet. Don’t look to your right! Don’t look to your right!! I immediately look to my right. Mom is throwing me a bone by continuing her preparation with her back turned while asking about my evening. I cannot resist a quick visual recon and become instantly transfixed by the back of her head. It takes her a good minute to add the filling and tidily wrap in cellophane, by which point, I am still stood gawking with my mouth wide open and a glob of drool rappelling down to my chest. I sense the danger of imminent spin around and vacate the zone just at the pivotal moment.

Mirrors are fun: Goddamn this is the money shot right here. Who would have thought that so much impish enjoyment could be gleaned from one’s own reflection. I pull every single face in my repertoire and a few debutantes also. Bizarrely enough I can discern every last molecule of grime in my skin and I appear to adopted instant acne but it’s all just so fascinating. Ultimately, the sound of approaching mom-bot sends me scurrying back to my poky chamber for the final phase of my trip.

Anyone for some pounding acid house music? My good old reliable Sony Walkman will supply audio accompaniment for any pictorials. I find my most pulsating rhythmic interlude and press play. I have to say that I’m rather glad I did. Sure, the walls are breathing like asthmatics behind me and my television set resembles an alloy globe right now; but there’s always the inner sanctum. I close my eyes tight and instantaneously I am transported to the wildest circus in town. Primary colors, twisting spheres and a kaleidoscope of fruity madness await and the shapes I create move in synchronicity with the steady-thumping soundbite to deliver me to the very edge of absolute euphoria. This is what I paid to see right here. Music was the key all along. In my mind there are no boundaries, not any more. I’ve broken the seal. Prepare for come-down: Hold on, nobody said anything about any come-down.

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