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Psychedelic Drugs

edited April 2017 in Dishes
Level: Chef
Your basket:
Main Ingredients:
leg of lamb

Spice Pack:
1/8 pinch of jubilation
1/4 dash of serenity

Screaming and yelling, my own voice I hear not. It is okay because no one can. Raver.

This isn't anything new. The sweat dripping down my body, flipping my head back and forth like a bobble head in a constantly moving car. Dopamine and adrenaline surge through my veins because we are pre-human, without an amygdala, succumbing to my inner urges. I hear everything yet nothing, as though the only thing present are cricketing grasshoppers in silence. We are the moving pictures in televisions, and with one click our voices are muted as we chant the lyrics to every song. It is an acquired taste like a leg of lamb, some like and some don’t. We are all synced in as one as if we have read the book “I came, I saw, I raved”.

Disorientated, I start feeling sick. Ugh, do you I need to puke?.....piss?.....take a dump? At this point I am just trying to get some air, pushing people out of my way to find the nearest window or door. Something.


Amongst all the jumping, swaying, and movement I catch a glimpse of paranoia. Granted, I'm on some strong shit to begin with, so paranoia has been my companion for the last few hours, but the feeling is tranquilizing. Everything's a blur, my equilibrium seems to be turned off. After I see a figure staring at me, standing still in the chaos of enigmatic motion.

Pacing, I move closer and closer, my sight honing in on the person. He is the dartboard and I the dart. Focus spiraling in. Am i excited?

BULLSEYE, I have reached my destination. Eyes-widen, my heart beating faster mimicking the beat of the bass as my sweat turns cold. Clarity!

He is I, and I him. Doppelganger. I walk around him in circles, this has to be a trick, where are the mirrors?


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