HIGH & OMG WE MIGHT DIE
Youth.
A time for friendships. A time for adventure.
A time for stupidity.
I've shared some of my moments of drug usage on here before, and they all had something magical about them. Not this one. This is just an example of pure stupidity, recklessness and poor thinking brought on by a haze of Red Bull and marijuana.
I had just turned 17 and was enjoying the right of passage into adulthood and the freedom of having two non-existent parents. A mate of mine rang me and asked me if I wanted to join him for his birthday shopping. I wanted to get the fuck away from the house, so I agreed. Him and a guy I'd never met before picked me up about 20 minutes later. It wasn't until we stopped for petrol not long after they picked me up that the new guy mentioned he had a little something and wanted to know if we wanted to get a bit spliffy. And I said yes.
I had just turned 17 and was enjoying the right of passage into adulthood and the freedom of having two non-existent parents. A mate of mine rang me and asked me if I wanted to join him for his birthday shopping. I wanted to get the fuck away from the house, so I agreed. Him and a guy I'd never met before picked me up about 20 minutes later. It wasn't until we stopped for petrol not long after they picked me up that the new guy mentioned he had a little something and wanted to know if we wanted to get a bit spliffy. And I said yes.
It was just for the thrill of getting high. I'd not really been pressured before, but for some reason, I felt like I needed to do this, I needed this for me. All of my brain cells were screaming at me, "Do it, Daniel. It will be a nice holiday for all of us." Actually, neither of them pressured me. I didn't feel like I wouldn't be part of the gang if I said no to the spliff. (They never pressured me any other time we hang out later. They were pretty chill blokes.) I knew that we were going to be driving about 2 hours south down to a big shopping centre to get what he wanted but it just didn't matter that we were going to be high or that it would be getting dark soon. I fucking needed this.
Andrew rolled a joint and took a hit before passing it back to me. This was my moment. I'd only smoked pot once before, but I'd smoked cigarettes before. I took a drag, inhaling but didn't really feel all that different, so I took another one. "Don't bogart that shit, mate!" I passed it up to Brad who took a long drag. "I have the feeling we're going to need a bit of this to feel alright." All three of us smirked as we pulled out of the petrol station and headed for the motorway. We passed another joint and a half (they were small) around the three of us, smoking cigarettes and drinking Red Bull in between spliff sessions. We were buzzed when we pulled into the shopping centre about 2 hours later. We wandered around the shops, just enjoying the Christmas decorations and laughing at some of the ridiculous prices they were asking for things. Seriously, and the law would call what we were up to criminal? Shopping accomplished, we headed back to the car park to have a smoke before driving back north.
We lit one more and smoked up in the car park before we realised the time and started back off for home. It was dark and icy as we headed north, but none of us were thinking clearly. I didn't care about anything. For the first time in the longest time, I felt free. I was apart of the gang. I didn't care if I died because finally I'd found, or thought I'd found, the acceptance that I wanted to. "Let's put this bitch to the test!" Brad revved the engine and we sped up, hauling ass through the night and the light snow flurries. The speed limit was posted at 70mph (112km) but we just wanted to test the limits of the road and the car, after all, it was a sports car. We hit a bend in the road at 75 and accelerated from there, hitting a long stretch of road Brad shifted gears and we accelerated up to 90, and then pushed it to 100. 160 km per hour, through the dark, snow and ice surrounding us. It was an amazing feeling. It wasn't just the marijuana, it was also the adrenaline from the speed coursing through me. We were laughing as we knocked back the speed and sped up time after time, just having fun. We only smoked one joint on the way back, still feeling good from what we'd done in the car park. We were broke ass students and didn't have the money to waste on spliff or anything really. Jesus. Anyway, we made it home in almost a quarter of the time it took us to get down to the shops. And as soon as we got back to my house? We sparked up another doobie and smoked for about a half hour before Andrew and Brad took off to their neighbourhood.
We could have crashed and died, seeing as we were all high as kites, killed someone (despite us being the only car on the motorway when we were doing this) or hit some ice and died that way. It wasn't like the thought of that didn't occur to me, it certainly did and it did the second and third times I did it. The second time was again with Brad in a stolen, I mean borrowed car and we took it off a few jumps. ((If this blog turns out to be a hit, then I'll share that story.)) And the third time I was in Germany with a friend, racing through a semi-residential area, but we had used other drugs that time, not marijuana. Oh yeah, and then there was that time in Ohio! Remember that blog? Danny Does Dabs: The First Time? Yep, was driving around like that twice, maybe three times that week with people? See how I have complete disregard for my safety and I suppose the safety of other people. Each time I've done this I wasn't pressured and I knew the consequences of the choices I made or was making. I just didn't care. I'm someone who gets off on danger. Someone who loves a thrill, no needs a thrill. It's what completes me as a person; It's what makes me feel alive. I've always been a risk taker of sorts, each year taking bigger and bigger risks. It's an addiction in a way. It may not be hardcore chemical nom-noms I'm craving, but I sure as fuck crave the endorphin release.
And it wasn't the last time that I got high with Andrew and Brad. There are a few more juicy and thrilling tales with the lads that I could share with you lot.
>>>> And while on the subject of me being high in cars, there was this one time a few years later when my mate and I had been out, just fucking off, being stupid and we hotboxed his mother's Mustang. She'd worked ages for that car and she loved it. It was like her second son and we hotboxed that motherfucker. We didn't even think about it. We'd had a few Forester's and were turned down a no-through way street when we pulled out the baggy. "Let's do it." Being stereotypically white boys, we put on some Eminem as we light the first joint. It didn't take long for us to finish that small one and start another. It was taking too long for us to get a decent high going taking turns, we were impatient really so I lit another one and he took the rest of the one we'd started sharing. After about 30 minutes we'd joined the high flyers club and were rapping along with Em, throwing in some of our own lyrics and laughing.
Then the police car came down the road. We started shitting ourselves. We were like 'Fuck, he's going to see the smoke! We're gonna get busted. Alcohol in the car, we'd been drinking, we had another baggy of spliff and I had some pills on me. We're gonna end up getting arrested and bummed in prison.' But then the car turned into a drive. We tried to watch through the smokey windows, but we were having difficulty. We watched through the smoke as the bloke took out a key and went into the house. He must have lived there or something. It could have been a mate's house or a relatives house. We needed to leave. He could come out at any minute. Quickly we opened the doors and the back windows to let the smoke out. After sitting a few moments, we shut the doors, started the engine and peeled off.
** Blogs will be coming slower than usual, I'm my grandmother's full-time caregiver now as she's terminally ill and relies on me for everything. I'll answer any question or comments I get in due time, but if I've missed you or anything don't take it personally, I'm just kind of stressed and scatterbrained with everything I have to do. I guess it's important that she's getting her final wishes followed out. You know what mine are? Give me a pizza, shoot me up full of drugs and let me phase out. Just leave me there, completely blasted. And if I can't chew the pizza make it into a shake using extra tomato sauce and water and let me slurp it. And if all else fails, gimme a feeding tube full of it.
LINKS
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/anjathesickboy/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/darkdreamingdan
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/darkdreamingdaniel/
Andrew rolled a joint and took a hit before passing it back to me. This was my moment. I'd only smoked pot once before, but I'd smoked cigarettes before. I took a drag, inhaling but didn't really feel all that different, so I took another one. "Don't bogart that shit, mate!" I passed it up to Brad who took a long drag. "I have the feeling we're going to need a bit of this to feel alright." All three of us smirked as we pulled out of the petrol station and headed for the motorway. We passed another joint and a half (they were small) around the three of us, smoking cigarettes and drinking Red Bull in between spliff sessions. We were buzzed when we pulled into the shopping centre about 2 hours later. We wandered around the shops, just enjoying the Christmas decorations and laughing at some of the ridiculous prices they were asking for things. Seriously, and the law would call what we were up to criminal? Shopping accomplished, we headed back to the car park to have a smoke before driving back north.
We lit one more and smoked up in the car park before we realised the time and started back off for home. It was dark and icy as we headed north, but none of us were thinking clearly. I didn't care about anything. For the first time in the longest time, I felt free. I was apart of the gang. I didn't care if I died because finally I'd found, or thought I'd found, the acceptance that I wanted to. "Let's put this bitch to the test!" Brad revved the engine and we sped up, hauling ass through the night and the light snow flurries. The speed limit was posted at 70mph (112km) but we just wanted to test the limits of the road and the car, after all, it was a sports car. We hit a bend in the road at 75 and accelerated from there, hitting a long stretch of road Brad shifted gears and we accelerated up to 90, and then pushed it to 100. 160 km per hour, through the dark, snow and ice surrounding us. It was an amazing feeling. It wasn't just the marijuana, it was also the adrenaline from the speed coursing through me. We were laughing as we knocked back the speed and sped up time after time, just having fun. We only smoked one joint on the way back, still feeling good from what we'd done in the car park. We were broke ass students and didn't have the money to waste on spliff or anything really. Jesus. Anyway, we made it home in almost a quarter of the time it took us to get down to the shops. And as soon as we got back to my house? We sparked up another doobie and smoked for about a half hour before Andrew and Brad took off to their neighbourhood.
We could have crashed and died, seeing as we were all high as kites, killed someone (despite us being the only car on the motorway when we were doing this) or hit some ice and died that way. It wasn't like the thought of that didn't occur to me, it certainly did and it did the second and third times I did it. The second time was again with Brad in a stolen, I mean borrowed car and we took it off a few jumps. ((If this blog turns out to be a hit, then I'll share that story.)) And the third time I was in Germany with a friend, racing through a semi-residential area, but we had used other drugs that time, not marijuana. Oh yeah, and then there was that time in Ohio! Remember that blog? Danny Does Dabs: The First Time? Yep, was driving around like that twice, maybe three times that week with people? See how I have complete disregard for my safety and I suppose the safety of other people. Each time I've done this I wasn't pressured and I knew the consequences of the choices I made or was making. I just didn't care. I'm someone who gets off on danger. Someone who loves a thrill, no needs a thrill. It's what completes me as a person; It's what makes me feel alive. I've always been a risk taker of sorts, each year taking bigger and bigger risks. It's an addiction in a way. It may not be hardcore chemical nom-noms I'm craving, but I sure as fuck crave the endorphin release.
And it wasn't the last time that I got high with Andrew and Brad. There are a few more juicy and thrilling tales with the lads that I could share with you lot.
>>>> And while on the subject of me being high in cars, there was this one time a few years later when my mate and I had been out, just fucking off, being stupid and we hotboxed his mother's Mustang. She'd worked ages for that car and she loved it. It was like her second son and we hotboxed that motherfucker. We didn't even think about it. We'd had a few Forester's and were turned down a no-through way street when we pulled out the baggy. "Let's do it." Being stereotypically white boys, we put on some Eminem as we light the first joint. It didn't take long for us to finish that small one and start another. It was taking too long for us to get a decent high going taking turns, we were impatient really so I lit another one and he took the rest of the one we'd started sharing. After about 30 minutes we'd joined the high flyers club and were rapping along with Em, throwing in some of our own lyrics and laughing.
Then the police car came down the road. We started shitting ourselves. We were like 'Fuck, he's going to see the smoke! We're gonna get busted. Alcohol in the car, we'd been drinking, we had another baggy of spliff and I had some pills on me. We're gonna end up getting arrested and bummed in prison.' But then the car turned into a drive. We tried to watch through the smokey windows, but we were having difficulty. We watched through the smoke as the bloke took out a key and went into the house. He must have lived there or something. It could have been a mate's house or a relatives house. We needed to leave. He could come out at any minute. Quickly we opened the doors and the back windows to let the smoke out. After sitting a few moments, we shut the doors, started the engine and peeled off.
** Blogs will be coming slower than usual, I'm my grandmother's full-time caregiver now as she's terminally ill and relies on me for everything. I'll answer any question or comments I get in due time, but if I've missed you or anything don't take it personally, I'm just kind of stressed and scatterbrained with everything I have to do. I guess it's important that she's getting her final wishes followed out. You know what mine are? Give me a pizza, shoot me up full of drugs and let me phase out. Just leave me there, completely blasted. And if I can't chew the pizza make it into a shake using extra tomato sauce and water and let me slurp it. And if all else fails, gimme a feeding tube full of it.
LINKS
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/anjathesickboy/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/darkdreamingdan
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/darkdreamingdaniel/
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