Featured art by Andrew Archer

Listen to Drug Bust by Richard Charles Stevens (High Roller Suite)

Listen to I Get High by Austin

Reality was never quite enough for me
This is why I undertook a voyage of self discovery
Needed to expand my mind
Remind myself of borderline
Head towards the other side
And reinvent the other me
.
Reinvent the other me
Reinvent the other me
Reinvent the other me
The other me
The other me
.
Reinvent the other me
Reinvent the other me
Reinvent the other me
The other me
The other me
.
I guess you could suggest I’ve spent my whole life in recovery
While one drug or another coursed my veins
Ultimately it boiled down to innate need for chieftaincy
Relieved to be the king of my domain
Tentatively in control
Each time the drum roll beckoned
Animation cranked up to eleven
In my seventh heaven
For duration of the session
Reality on fiddle coming second
.
Then came sudden crash
As I made unrequested dash
To the place where thoughts and deeds are reckoned
Natural highs had passed me by
By and large the grass nearby seemed greener to the starry eyes of one with fix to pass the time
.
One with fix to pass the time
One with fix to pass the time
One with fix to pass the time
.
Tricked me into thinking that my mind was hypoglycaemic
Craving rush of sugar to make panorama scenic
(Rave)
(Rave)
Raving like a beatnik
With my favoured analgesic
I numbed each pain that masqueraded weakness
I numbed each pain that masqueraded weakness
I numbed each pain that masqueraded weakness
.
On fantastical terrain
I staked emphatic claim on breaking static
Made excuses for behaviour when it then became erratic
Red alert averted
Felt unheard of nursing panic
Unaware of flair for the dramatic
.
Pretty face yet wasting space in attic
No great shakes to me for vacancy left me ecstatic
Had I cared for mathematics
Then perhaps I would have had the stats on hand to help to break the habit
Alas I never cared for numbers greatly
And besides my love affair with prose was more romantic
My love affair with prose was more romantic
My love affair with prose was more romantic
.
Reality was losing traction
As was human interaction
Rumoured to be overrated
Humoured once and now sedated
Fantasy far more persuasive
Albeit a touch abrasive
Mind bending narcotics seemed the only way to make it
A problem’s not a problem when you flat refuse to face it
Meanwhile I just savoured being wasted
Reality was never quite enough for me you see
At least until I undertook a second voyage of self discovery
.
Uncovering the parts of me that binging drugs concealed
Intimately stunned at what my twinging guts revealed
.
Needed to expand my mind
Remind myself of borderline
.
Needed to expand my mind
Remind myself of borderline
Head towards the other side
And resurrect the other me
The wide eyed child I left behind
When I became anaesthetised
Revitalise my vital signs
Entitle my recovery
.
Reinvent the other me
Reinvent the other me
Reinvent the other me
The other me
The other me
.
Reinvent the other me
Reinvent the other me
Reinvent the other me
The other me
The other me
.
Reality still falls way short of altered course my thoughts endorse
Now undressed of fraught remorse
For pleasure need not be outsourced
Of course we each and all possess our vices
Tend to favour mind distortion left to own devices
Howbeit this is not to say that we can’t turn the tables
Once we learn where the most natural high is
Animation cranked up to eleven
Essentially we’re in control
Next time the drum roll beckons
.

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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