No white rabbits

Now I am not one to really go full tilt boogie with "the drugs". Growing up around parents that did lines of coke off of a mirror/picture of a panther while listening to Boston through their record player that sat on our wooden plank/cinder block entertainment center, kinda soured me on whole thing. Perhaps that, and the fact that it made my dad crazy. So crazy that he put up tin foil on the windows to stop himself from invading the minds of the neighbors. A useful trade when there was a block party. You don't like the guacamole? Kill the people who made it with your mind. He was the professor X of Pamela Jane St. So I stayed pretty scared straight. But eventually you enter your twenties and are grossly behind everyone in your generation when it comes to being a fucked up mess. So I started spending more time with my resident fag hag, Natalie. They can always be trusted to show you the way around taking things that make you forget. If you wandered in around 7:30 p.m, Natalie and I would be passed out, with golden girls on loop, and surrounded by a shanty town of pizza hut boxes. Sometimes we made a fort. So I entered the valley of the dolls. Except our "dolls" were cheap mec. So it seemed the next natural step was to plan a trip to the coast with Natalie and my friend Maurice with the main objective being to eat shrooms on the beach. I should say that I was a tried and true stoner at that point and had dabbled in somethings a bit more "enlightening". Such as ecstasy. My account with ecstasy before that ended with me curled up in the fetal position swiping away the faces that were flying at me. So it seemed a good idea to go to a strange place and eat poison fungus.  We arrive at the beach at about 10:00 am. Its a bit overcast and looks to be a pleasant day to enter gates of hell. Balmy. We divide the shrooms between the 3 of us. Natalie and Maurice eat their portion quickly, like chicken tenders. I eye my share with a look of fear (not unlike I normally do with chicken fingers).

"I think I will eat half now and half later, just to maintain" I say

I have to state that both of them easily weighed twice as much as me or more. Not only did I need to look after my figure, I needed to not flip the fuck out and run screaming into the ocean.

"just eat it you pussy" they say

I am swayed by this argument, decide its for the best, and eat it all. 

We find a small cave like indent in the cliffside to settle ourselves for our trip.  We'll fast forward about an hour. Maurice is laying on his back looking at the walls of the "cave". He has made friends with the moss that is hanging on the wall and has given each of them names. Instead of responding to us when we say anything, he responds to the moss that bares our namesake. Natalie seems fairly normal. Then there's me. 

"Im losing myself, Im losing myself" I say over and over again.

Needless to say I am not stoked. Whenever I open my eyes and look out at the surrounding cliffs, I can see that they are breathing. Breathing and slowly crawling towards me. They will reach me if they can get across that beach made of graph paper. This seems unlikely though because those families of wandering space monsters will probably stop it.  I decide its best to leave nature to its mysteries and start convulsing. After Natalie is able to talk me down, let me know that she can get me to the hospital, and that, yes, time does in fact exist, we realize we had not brought food or water. The last time we did shrooms we were smart enough to have brought something to sustain life. Smart enough in fact to pack a lunch in a little cooler with frozen turkey sausage because we had no ice. We found ourselves clever for solving this logistical obstacle, not unlike Macgyver. Only stoners have tubes of frozen turkey sausage, but no ice. By the time we decided to eat we had a cooler full of turkey juice, so Maurice decided to eat wildflowers instead. This time we didn't even have rotting turkey meat. But after a vigorous search through my bag they did find something that was deemed edible, Lube. They ate every packet I had. From peach to pina colada. You can't top that (at least not as comfortably)  so it was time to go. I had come back from the brink and was ready to live, and Maurice had been arguing with the moss and was not putting up with their shit anymore. Needless to say there will be no "white rabbits" in my future. And if you ever think that I might consider chasing the dragon, then you better mean the ones in the chinese parades... because I would like to chase those... they're colorful!