I had a good night’s sleep and only woke up once I think just before midnight. Then again for the final time at 5:45 a.m.
There’s a unique state of mind that I’m not sure I’ve experienced before. I can remember having a dream, but not remember the dream. I definitely had a unique dream complete with all of the components that make up my dreams which are scripted scenes with detail and characters. I just don’t remember what it was about.
Although I love to remember my dreams and follow them through into my awakeness but strangely, remembering that I had a dream that I can’t remember is still comforting. It means I slept well and I’m waking up somewhat refreshed.
I wasn’t really waking up somewhat refreshed though. I felt very tired still. I debated going back to sleep, but that never ends well. I get weird dreams and the second wake-up is usually not a pleasant mild experience. So the next best solution is to call this my wake-up and use some drugs to actually wake me up.
I smoked a few hits but was still feeling a little more groggy than I would like to start my day. I’m trying to get into a good routine and being groggy doesn’t really help. So my next step was to boof some. Boofing is the process of getting the drugs into your system through your rear end. This works especially well for crystal meth because it dissolves in water and can easily be inserted via a syringe. No needle.
I dissolved a nice portion into the water and as always I overestimate the amount of water this ring takes so it was 3 and 1/2 syringes after I mixed it around and began the process.
You feel it pretty much right away, in fact to some extent you feel it as you’re doing it. You have the delightful feeling of warm water in your ass but the warm water has a tingle and you no longer feel groggy and tired. You feel more like you want to get up and dance around the room.
I turned on the computer and I was ready to start and then my body said; thank you for this bounty, but we think it was a little too much and we’re going to send some of it back to you.
In other words, my ass overflowed and the excess was coming back out. Pretty quickly apparently. I usually ignore the first warning, but in this case, that was a bad idea. I got up and made my way downstairs with fear that I wouldn’t have enough time before the gates opened.
I could feel my butt cheeks fighting against the onslaught trying to hold it back like a Dutch boy with his finger in the dike It wasn’t enough.
I felt a little squirt make its way through just as I’m approaching the bathroom door. Once that squirt head made its way through, others followed. It’s a scary feeling knowing that you’re shitting your pants. And so close.
I finally sat down and loosened my grip and spewed into the toilet as one does. I looked down between my legs at the inside crotch of my sweatpants to assess the damage and it wasn’t bad. Apparently, the first few squirts were primarily the water itself from the boofing. No shit. No brown. Just a moistness that I was able to wipe down and continue on my day
Of course, all of this happened while I am especially in a good mood. The high overwhelms the lows and the story of almost shooting my pants becomes one that I feel confident in sharing. If I wasn’t quite so high, I might realize it’s a horrible story and I shouldn’t be sharing it, but that’s the power of meth. All decisions are correct under its influence.