three-day-sum

Sometimes I sit down to write and I'm sure of only one thing: that there's something I want to say. A feeling inside demands action so I try and find words to represent the feeling.

I spent the weekend in Las Vegas with Art. We stayed at the Hilton, but did not partake of the Star Trek Experience. Nor did we use our free tickets to see the "Society of Seven," Hawaii's craziest bunch of mixed nuts. Whatever that means. (The selling slogan on local ads for the show.) I won enough money to basically pay for my weekend. I got to see Nathan and end the night at The Gypsy dancing to "Rapture" by IIO; the perfect ending to a rekindling of my friendship with him. I got far enough away from Southern California to begin to heal. I'm glad I was with Art. Being my first boyfriend, I still share something with him--a bond from my late adolesence--that I cannot place words to explain. Having new experiences with him is safe and sought sometimes. For the first time I feel like I'm not grieving any longer and I know where my heart is; where my head is as well.

I think that inside of us there is this universe. It expands boundlessly, intersecting into others' expanses. There is no map, no guide tool, no information desk that shows us how to explore this place, and most of us never really look at this place because it's too scary. Too unknown. I guess now all I can try and do is recall some of the trip...It may be long, I'm not sure what will come out...

FLASH THOUGHTS ON DXM:

I can still hear Garbage songs in my head. "Blip" TV screen vision, as if the horizontal hold wasn't properly adjusted. My hands are getting moist and sweaty typing all of this now. Once I was pulled outside of myself, there was a sense that everything I saw was through a video screen. Each step was taken with a sound effect. I couldn't hear background noise or conversation. Scenes from movies that I've seen in the past that I didn't understand became clear---or seemingly so. "Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me" and "Go" are two such movies. The "jibberish" scenes in Fire Walk With Me where the midget who says "I am the arm" were what I was experiencing. Unconnected, uncomprehendable images chained together; a mind trying to put order to something where no order is. I think now too of movies by Darren Aronofsky. Pieces of "Pi" and "Requiem for a Dream." The way that the guy in "Pi" was so sure of what he knew and how it made complete sense to him--a key that he had turned to walk through something. I remember a moment when I I felt that I had grasped that moment of complete understanding and how peaceful I felt. I remember the thought that decisions, choices, outcomes made no difference because in the end the result for all of us is the same---and by that I don't necessarily mean that we all die, or go onto an afterlife, or anything like that. I had more a sense that no matter what road taken, what type of life led, eventually all paths lead back to the same place. Maybe this is just a belief that was in my head and personified by the experience. I tend to thing that drug experiences--however people may relate them as similar--are just extensions of people trying to connect to one another; make sense where none is. Art was playing a video game. I could see him sitting in the chair, staring at the laptop screen. In some ways I saw him in control of where I was; almost as if he pulled the strings as to what was going to happen next. I used him as a "focus thought." When I felt myself straying too far from safety or from being too far into my own thoughts to know what was going on I thought of him and I was brought back into my surroundings and didn't feel lost. Rob--the boy that Art met on gay.com and who we picked up early Saturday morning for my 1st (and probably only) threeway--was the one who asked if I had ever tripped on DXM. My only time was with green triangles a couple years ago when I thought it was E. He was there with me the whole time, but as soon as the drug took effect, I don't remember him any longer. I know that I found something in my that suddenly didn't trust anyone I didn't know any longer; perhaps that instinct that I have all along about people but put off and ignore in some situations. At one point we were out of the hotel room and walking somewhere in the hotel. I remember bumping a wall because I couldn't walk straight. I sat on bench/couch (I think). He kept repeating that he wanted to go back to Walgreens. I didn't want to. I was staring at the ceiling. I remember thinking how odd I must look to other people. I thought about being at raves and seeing people who looked completely "not there" and now knew of the places that they go to. Computer screens with graphically enhanced visions. Flow charts, with lines moving through systems. My mind is always processing. I remember speaking, "So many thoughts." I tried to voice some of them, but often my words would come out only half words or all jumbled & jibberish. I sounded like a stroke victim. In my head the idea and sentence was clear as day, but when uttered I remember having to repeat myself, sometimes never getting the thought out. I was frustrated. VERY frustrated. I curled up into a ball on the bed, closed my eyes in the hope of falling asleep, but I just saw more images. Vid screens, brain inner workings, flowing, pieces, the last piec ein place, a cube, the corner. No sense of temperature. When we walked outside, Art was freezing cold and I felt nothing. Later on, after I could focus vision again, I had no taste buds and I still wasn't speaking clearly. I ate a whole hamburger and pink lemonade and could taste nothing. I felt texture but not taste, which was an interesting way to experience food. I don't recall anything else right now.