It was October 2003, and me and my friend Joe had the idea that we would take some sort of crazy drug one day in half term.
It was October 2003, and me and my friend Joe had the idea that we would take some sort of crazy drug one day in half term. It was a boring time to live in north Staffordshire, and the main entertainment was chemical for my group of friends. Anyway, after failing to obtain more dangerous, illegal substances, we resolved to pick some mushrooms at the cricket pitch near Joe's house. To be honest, I did not expect to find any, but when we reached the field it was easy to see that tonight would be a good one. We picked a few hundred of the small, brown mushrooms, hoping and praying they would be the right sort. We put them in a crisp packet. Later on, we went to Hanley to see a band play at the Sugarmill (an alternative music venue I would reccomend to anyone in Stoke). After scoring an 1/8 of weed, we proceeded to Hanley bus station where we ate the mushrooms. despite what most people say, the taste of the Liberty Caps was not that bad, but they were covered in soil and bits of grass which made eating them disgusting. we ate approximately one hundred mushrooms each, what we supposed would be enough for a reasonable trip. Unfortunately, we had a problem: we had been forced by Joe's mum to go to a restaurant with Joe's parents and uncle before we went to see the band. There was no way out of this engagement, so after eating the shrooms we wandered around Hanley for a bit before proceeding to the restaurant. I began to focus too much on certain things: light reflecting off a damp pavement became the entire univers for a split second...I have taken mushrooms in smaller doses before and know this is the signature of their onset... By the time we walk through the door of the Indian restaurant, things have become confused. we try and fail to look sharp entering the room, acting uncoordinated and delirious. We sit down, and the usual banal conversation ensues. I become strangely talkative in front of these new people, and ramble on about things (what I must have sounded like doesn't bare thinking about, but being a tripper I have learnt not to care anout these things) randomly. At this point, when I can distract myself from the mind-blowing yellow, incomprehensible decor of the restaurant, I notice for the first time that Joe is not altogether happy. He appears to be slumped, body upright but head sagging down, staring at the table with complete misery. something bad ensues between him and his mum; she asks is he on drugs?, he freak out at this point, day glow terror inescapable from this terrible siuation, he shouts at his mum,what is that look on your face! leasve me alone!. Of course, I then begin to laugh. This is because Blooywood films are being played in the restaurant, and a version of 'I Love You Baby', sung in an Indian language, is coming loudly from the speakers. I am bent over laughing, unable to control myself, and Joe is shouting at his mother. It is time to leave. So we get out somehow, wander aroung the scag-ridden streets of Hanley until we come to a strange park. joe seems to be happy again, and is shouting: 'Yes! I've conquered it.' In terms of the logic I was now using, this ewas probably only a good thing. Calm down. A bizarre abandoned building in the park looks like a bouncy-castle, glowing ferociously in the city night. Past inflatable cars and silver streets we get to the sugarmill and meet Johnny, who is completely sober. everything is shiny like polished metal, and wherever I turn my head, strange colourful designs manifest themselves in 'space'. In the sugarmill Joe returns to his bad trip. he is in a bad way, and our attempts to calm him down are thwarted by 'Fuck off! Just fuck off!' This is not good, I tell myself, but after a couple of hours he is fine, and I begin to stop laughing for the first time all night. we go to KFC, which is a horrifying house of mirrors; I see thousands of my drugged-up reflections from every angle. I observe for the first time in my life that clothes are not part of my body. They are alien materials, and I cannot escape the fact that I am a naked man covered in fabric. The mind is abstract, illogical and above all confused. So much informations seems to go into your mind via the senses that the brain seems to lose its ability to comprehend what is happening around it. aaaah. Anyway, later on we were all pretty much OK and went back to Joe's, where we smoked weed to calm down. of course, this intensifies the visual aspect of the hallucinations and all night I cannot sleep, and amazing and infinite metaphysical patterns flow and dance under my eyelids. i cannot stop thinking, exploring every possible mental idea, and my brain needs a break. This 'burnt out' feeling continues the next day, but all in all the comedown is pleasant and far preferable to that of alcohol, ectacy, cannabis et cetera. Just get real, real drunk the next day: that is the ideal cure to stop your mind racing ahead, and you calm down at last.