Dan Tries Incredibles: Mixed Fruit Tarts
I'm not gonna lie. I love the Incredibles products. My favourite out of everything that I've ever tried by them is the Mile High Mint Bar. The Bay State Bar, The Strawberry Crunch Bar and the Mixed Fruit Tarts. I was thinking they wouldn't really get me high, but goddamn was I wrong. And I used them as a little booster when I only had a little bit of my Mile High Mint Bar left and that was a good time. I slept for like 10 hours after that. It was some pretty amazing sleep, I can't even begin to tell you guys how good it was.
Let's talk about the product itself. I love that there are three different flavours that have both sweet and sour flavours that burst in your mouth. It's like those Sweetart sweet things. The candy they give away in America on Valentine's Day. Or is it year-round shit? I don't know. I really love the taste of these. So on taste its a 10 flavours out of 10. Yeah, that good. I show a mate of mine the little tarts and she asks me if they're ecstasy tablets. I didn't see that before she pointed it out. And as soon as I got high, the entire conversation became even more hilarious. She told me that she wasn't sure what to expect with me and that would not be out of the realm of possibility with me, not to mention my past hijinx. **Fans Self** What a reputation. **giggles**Since the recreational ones are only 2mg each (medicinal is 5mg each and that's fucking bullshit seeing as they're the same fucking price, but I digress.) I have to eat about 10 of them. I honestly don't remember how many I ate. Just estimating here.
I love when the high starts to hit me. Actually, now that I'm thinking about this, it costs me more to get really high, I mean nice and baked, to the point where I'm almost burnt because these are a lower mg than the other ones. I can't help but feel ripped off. I think these ones should be a little cheaper. What do you guys think? I feel my entire body tingling. I start to get that existential hunger, then the physical hunger and my entire body relaxes. It feels like I'm falling away from everything.
I think about New York City a lot. I love going there to visit. I've been there in every season. Each time I visit, I learn something new about my favourite American city. My love for Oliver and Company, my love for Law & Order and all the spin-offs, all these films made there. It's a beautiful place. It's a disgusting place. It's a place where I feel both fear and contentment. I love moving through the streets, up and down, Broadway, 5th Avenue and everything in between. Snapping photos left and right. It feels like I'm in a different time whenever I head to New York City. It's really a place all it's own. Kind of like when I head to Berlin. It occupies its own place in space and time like no other. I rewatch Oliver and Company singing along like a crazed child, drowning in a sea of Disney laden memories. I want to just reach into me, pull my memories out of me so I can watch them on the silver screen.
And then suddenly it hits me. The human experience is different for every one of us. Each person experiences life differently. No path is the same. Similar, but not the same. It's haunting. We really do live alone. We're born alone. We die alone. Everything else is just smoke and mirrors to distract us from the horrid truth that we are deeply alone, even when we don't realise it during our lifetimes. We cling to the idea of closeness, unity, siblinghood and more in order to ignore the loneliness that flows under each and every one of our existences. My head starts to throb. Why do I always get so existential? I start to think about him...the one who makes me feel like no other ever has and, quite possibly, never will anyone else. He understands the pain of depression, the emptiness of mental isolation and the agony of not feeling enough, despite your accomplishments.
I feel myself sinking into my depression. My losses, fears and anxieties curling up next to me, whispering at me, all fighting for the spotlight. I can't do it anymore. I don't want to have to fight and struggle every day of my life to achieve somewhat normalcy. I just want to be able to breathe without feeling like I'm either breathing in glitter or there is a loaded barbell across my chest. I ache for those patches of clarity when I'm neutral when I'm okay. Or at least when I think I'm okay.
My mind falls back to when my mum was pregnant with my youngest sister. The children on the wall dressed as ducks haunt me. I stared into the eyes of the babies; Sometimes I still do in my head, forever traumatised by the idea that babies were like chickens or that they were aliens. I'm not sure which one was the thing that bothered me the most. I can taste the happy meal I had that day; 4 little chicken nuggets, a small pouch of chips, some apple slices and a little joke. I start crying. I just want to be happy.
My mind falls back to when my mum was pregnant with my youngest sister. The children on the wall dressed as ducks haunt me. I stared into the eyes of the babies; Sometimes I still do in my head, forever traumatised by the idea that babies were like chickens or that they were aliens. I'm not sure which one was the thing that bothered me the most. I can taste the happy meal I had that day; 4 little chicken nuggets, a small pouch of chips, some apple slices and a little joke. I start crying. I just want to be happy.
The damn breaks and gives way to my deepest desires, filling me with a pleasure that borders on the immoral and absurd.His lips on mine are like lightning. I feel the adrenaline rush through me. My heart pounds as I wrap my fingers around him. He's chubbier than I remember. I sink my fingers into the excess chubb around his chest, feeling the slight swell of his starting moobs. His skin is pale, but not pale enough to hide a dozen or so off-white stretch marks. They're illuminated in the candlelight. He feels my fingers tracing them, he pulls away; taking away the sugary sweet taste of his lips. I want more. He tries to hide from me but I pull him into me. He squishes against me and me into him. I pull off my shirt so our bare flesh can touch. I begin to nibble and kiss the stretch marks that cover his hips and lower belly. It sticks out and hangs down a little above his bottoms, making a cute little w shape. I want to caress it. His underbelly is smoother and silkier than any other part of him. I love it. Every inch. Every curve, every dimple. He's the most gorgeous thing I've ever laid eyes on.
I lay net to him, his arm against mine. Time moves so slow across our bodies. Despite knowing our hearts are racing, the beat feels slow, almost poetic as we listening to one another's breathing. Inhale and exhale in sync. I move closer into him, he inches closer to me, wanting to feel the heat of my body radiating against his. He laces his hand into mine and everything falls into place.
I lay net to him, his arm against mine. Time moves so slow across our bodies. Despite knowing our hearts are racing, the beat feels slow, almost poetic as we listening to one another's breathing. Inhale and exhale in sync. I move closer into him, he inches closer to me, wanting to feel the heat of my body radiating against his. He laces his hand into mine and everything falls into place.
Memories from past lives have always haunted me. I know things that I have no logical way of knowing. It has to be from some other part of me. I knew from an early age how to survive, how to endure. I've developed parts of my personality out of necessity and I often wonder what I would be like if I wasn't forced to develop these defence mechanisms?
For whatever the reason, I find myself thinking about memories that have my grandparents in them, especially my grandmother, Barb. She was there for me in the ways that she could be. She knew I was odd as a child but that didn't stop her from wanting me to have the best childhood memories she could give me. From school plays, visits, day trips when I was older, dinners or lunches out. Some of my happiest memories involve her. This time I'm about 9 years old. They're taking me, my sister, my brother and my fat-head cousin to a children's event near their house. There's so many activities. Arts and crafts, face painting, bouncy house. I want to see everything. I want to try everything. Not much has changed in the past 19 years. Oh God, in a few short years I can say 20 years. I'm gonna fucking cry. 30 is crashing down on me too. I start sliding into an existential crisis.
Pianos start to play in my mind. I look into my cameras eye and see my sclera have become a violent pink colour. I lay back, closing my eyes and enjoying the memories on my eyelids. I watch images of my former self running free. Twisting through fields littered with flowers. A brilliant blue sky hangs over me, the clouds fat, white and happy. In the distance is the enchanted forest. I twist and twirl faster and faster, watching the world around me spin round and round. I collapse into a heap on the ground, the flowers towering over me. It's almost unbelievable; seeing the world at this angle. It looks like an entirely different place. I watch as the sun sets and the sky erupts into various reds, purples, and light pinks and blues.
For whatever the reason, I find myself thinking about memories that have my grandparents in them, especially my grandmother, Barb. She was there for me in the ways that she could be. She knew I was odd as a child but that didn't stop her from wanting me to have the best childhood memories she could give me. From school plays, visits, day trips when I was older, dinners or lunches out. Some of my happiest memories involve her. This time I'm about 9 years old. They're taking me, my sister, my brother and my fat-head cousin to a children's event near their house. There's so many activities. Arts and crafts, face painting, bouncy house. I want to see everything. I want to try everything. Not much has changed in the past 19 years. Oh God, in a few short years I can say 20 years. I'm gonna fucking cry. 30 is crashing down on me too. I start sliding into an existential crisis.
Pianos start to play in my mind. I look into my cameras eye and see my sclera have become a violent pink colour. I lay back, closing my eyes and enjoying the memories on my eyelids. I watch images of my former self running free. Twisting through fields littered with flowers. A brilliant blue sky hangs over me, the clouds fat, white and happy. In the distance is the enchanted forest. I twist and twirl faster and faster, watching the world around me spin round and round. I collapse into a heap on the ground, the flowers towering over me. It's almost unbelievable; seeing the world at this angle. It looks like an entirely different place. I watch as the sun sets and the sky erupts into various reds, purples, and light pinks and blues.
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