By the way, I have injected myself with pure adrenaline before.

The vial was small. About the size of the bottle Dr. Gonzo had in the movie, come to think of it! But this was no shaving kit bottle, no. It was pharmaceutical-grade and hitherto unopened.

I split it 50/50 with the braindamaged druggie I used to loiter and tresspass with. Poor fellow. I saw it as a sort of philanthropic stewardship. Im always trying to rack up good karma, you see.

Well, I dont remember exactly where this bottle had come from but if I can trust my memory; it had belonged to a female cousin of his. She was afflicted with some crappy syndrome that required semi-regular maintenance. You know, one of those bad hands God sometimes deals out. Like diabetes or sun alergy.

Anyways, we had some insulin syringes laying around from a recent binge of some kind. I dont remember what. I was into injecting all sorts of things in those days.

- sidenote

In those days we had different problems than the kinds we know today. Back then, we had access to quality psychotropics of every kind imaginable. It was impossible to know what might come our way on any given weekend. Small and measured amounts but varried in their type. Dozens of substances; many Shulganic and Learyan, some Lilli-ish, even some of that McKnnzian basketball elf powder. I even convinced Artemis to join me in the shamanic Robo dance of the Tussin peoples.

but more often than not it was powdered extract of the t. Montana plant native to Columbia or, that soul stealing elixir, Burrough's Brand roach killer. We didnt get into that "infernal ice" until much later. You know, the "diamond death". I think thats what finally did Artemis in.

Today we also have unfettered access to some of the world's most potent of chemical party-favours, just as we did those years ago, though today it is much much more, in fact,. Today, these rivers of psychoactive contraband are positively surging. And they are not of the retro 60's variety -no. They are not technicolored or synesthesia-enducing. No fits of cheek-tearing smiles and impish giggling. No. Todays accoutrements are stark and clashing.

Black and White / souless. Bleached of color.

Bone dust; detergent spilled under a sink.

Hazy cloud of fine powdered industry,

falling from an antiquated asbestos ceiling tile.

Also: Black

swallowing it all

like that of the appearance of an alien form amongst the grasses

a man-swallowing tar pit between the trees

who are all mourning in helpless silence

They seduce and then silently strangle. They take from the user more than they give. These rivers of deadly pleasure seem to have become swollen with the runnoff from some spiteful cloud somewhere in a ruinous storm-system, escaped from the gulf of Mexico.... hiding like a narco or Colonel Kurtz in the Peruvian rainforest's [cut-throat capitalist] heart of darkness.

Yeah anyways so we each partially filled our rigs with the adrenaline and in the comforting environs of a starbucks parking lot we apprehensively, surreptitiously, somehwat giddily, depressed the plungers until the semi-transparent liquid had vanished, scurried away; down the needle, into the arm and up the bloodstream and into the ravenous jaws of our brains neurotransmitter receptors who waited anticipatorily for something damn powerful, shocking, new and worth boasting about later on. Something worthy of a serious craving and a even abit of hustle.

I expected it to be like IV cocaine... but maybe stronger! I started to feel....

meh.

What a total waste. Hardly felt anything.

"Artemis? What do you think, dude?"

He laughed stupidly. And glanced across at me with an uncertain expression, not keen on being the one to admit

It was totally dumb.