Today my mom woke me up at 8, and since I'd only been asleep an hour and a half, I was in the way where I could only understand half of what she said, but all of it made me wish she'd stop talking. She was setting off some canisters of pyrethrins in the house, and I had been planning to go to the state park and sleep in my car while that was going on, but wasn't in any shape to. She accidentally sprayed herself in the face a little bit and I guess it must've hurt her sinuses. We went for a drive through Monterey and Algood and I felt like this was the first year I'd noticed the
autumnal colors of the leaves. I guess I fell asleep after a while, and when we got home, I fell asleep again with the windows open, and didn't worry about the bug spray too much. Honestly, if you want to know the truth, I spent the morning watching NCIS and Addams Family reruns. I think the Munsters was kind of produced better, if you care to discern, but the Addamses, the other characters, their home, and the writing are more charming, in my opinion. I just don't get the part of the opening theme, "
neat...sweet...petite," except that it's a vague sarcastic analogy.
Later in the evening, I went over to my neighbor's house, because she was giving out candy and we weren't. She was an unconvincing Paul Stanley, without lipstick or anything, not that I'm a fan. I ate her candy and smoked her cigarettes and told her how my ex-manager at Taco Bell had groped another woman I'd known just like he'd done her and how abominable I thought he was, really. We were listening to her police scanner a little bit, and it reminded me of the time I got kicked out of Celina and broke my tooth out. After a while, she was leaving to go to the bar, and so I came home and took some Benadryl, but obviously not enough, since I'm writing this. Before it kicked in, I got my mom to give me two and a half dollars so I could buy some more Grizzly Wintergreen. There's nothing like getting a big dip right as your Benadryl kicks in. On the way out, she told me not to get high tonight, and I hadn't thought about going anywhere before, but since she'd mentioned it, I drove out to the state forest, to Glasscock Cemetery, and took a nap. It was really neat and sweet and petite. On the way there I heard some
Hawkward and
Kitty Party and I listened to
Everywhere and Right Here while I was going to sleep. I think it was a full moon or at least close to it, and it shone down to where I could see the whole cemetery. The cemetery is a sort of cleared mound with a couple large trees in the middle of it and a lot of moss and various fungi thriving in the graveyard itself. Many of the older graves have tent-shaped coverings of two long fieldstones, and some have little Confederate flags. The cemetery, for me, is inextricably linked to the song
Indian Summer by
Beat Happening, which has a sort of solemnity and black humor about it. There was a little bit of fog on the road, and I sort of thought about who or what might jump out in front of my car and try to kill me, but much less intensely than I would've if I hadn't been sedated. I woke up at 11, having slept since 9:30, and came home directly and made a meatball sandwich.
I've got a good deal of homework due. I think I'm going to write my essay about sexsomnia, or "sleep sex," because it's such an unheard of topic. I guess my interest in the subject was originally piqued by this
experience report on Erowid, where two friends of the opposite sex had intercourse while delirious from Datura. I've been fascinated by Datura for four years now. I planted some D. wrightii at the cemetery, actually, a couple weeks ago, but I don't know that it will grow, because Junebug gave me the seeds over a year ago. I'll have to save some of the D. stramonium, this year's harvest at the Planes, the dirt road behind Livingston's airport that I used to get high at with my friends in high school, and now where I go to be alone, much like the cemetery. As you can tell from that report, Datura's really intimidating, no matter how ambitious one might be about it. I just want to go all the way with it once, and then there'll be nothing left for me to be scared of, I can claim. I ate a little, this week, actually, since I finally got to see this year's plants. I had some seeds and leaves Wednesday night, and then another couple leaves Thursday morning between classes. In pre-delirium doses, I've found, it tends to make one slightly feverish, or at least, give a very convincing subjective sense of a fever, the
malaise, as well as the ever present cottonmouth, and closer still to the threshold, blows one's pupils dramatically out of proportion and can be very conducive to tunnel vision in a way that synthetic deliriants are not.
I remember the first time I ate some, when it kicked in as I was coming down from a tiny hit of yay I shared with some friends, and how I felt like the Nosferatu was behind me about to kill me until I took my repose. I remember that. Oh, someday, I'll rise up and take action, the final up of the ups and downs of a thrill-seeking personality, and I'll be the might
scorcher of enemies.
Beat Happening
