Reads: 71  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


Submitted: June 04, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 04, 2018



You snort two fat lines of molly and feel those big meaty white crystals cut into your sinuses and woo buddy you’re gonna be rollin’ tough tonight.“It’s gon be a fucking good night” you yell at yourself in the mirror your pupils already starting to look like endless black holes dropping into a blood vessel spiderweb floating  in a pool of sour milk.  Your eyes are buggin’ and kinda grossin’ you out so you bust out the Visine and get two drops in each eye.  The refreshing coolness spreads slowly into your eyes like reverse weeping and you blink a few times.It’s nice.

That’s when you feel the molly kick in.

“OOoooooooOOooOOooOOoOoOoooooooo baaaaaabyyyyyyy,” you coo softly into the warm air.

It’s funny how whenever it starts kicking in the bathroom always feels too small and like infinity at the same time.  The initial kick always feels heavy maybe because it’s a head change.To go from homeostasis into a full-on serotonin/dopamine oozing body-trance that’s like your skin is cumming isn’t something to be taken lightly.  It’s like you just hit a big-ass whippet and everything in sight sort of wobbles a bit and your arms feel waaaay behind you and if you try to walk or reach for anything you know it’s gonna be way too far beyond eternity and oh man all this thinking is just swirling chaos in my head and oh my fucking god it feels so good it feels so good I just wanna feel this way forever and ever but first I gotta sit down right now on the toilet or I’m gonna pass the fuck out.

So you sit.

Put your head in your hands.

All that vodka is bubbling in your gut.  The molly should pick you up past drunkedness so you’re not worried but it’s the initial kick that has you reaaaally going you know.  But you know it’s cuz it’s cut with ice.  They always put speed or meth in molly and god knows what else.Fucking shysters.  Fucking assholes.  All drug dealers are assholes.  But gotta love them you know? Ya dig?  It’s pretty much impossible to get real pure uncut MDMA you know?  It’s always extasy really.  Unless you get like a pure crystal but shit who knows chemists like that?  Especially in these parts?

You laugh at nothing.

Maybe cuz it feels so good.

God we could stay high forever.  It’s the best.Why would anyone want to be sober?I just don’t get it.Sobriety sucks.

We get too close to ourselves when we’re sober.  It’s better to be high.

Like now.

All the time.

Don’t ever come down.


Oh my god.


I feel like sunlight.

Pure sunlight.

It’s liquid sunshine. 

Haha no not like that stupid sports drink Sunny D.


oh my god Sunny D sounds amazing right now my mouth is dry as fuck.

You laugh again your head flopping kind of to the side and you prop your elbow on your leg and hold yourself up you’re staring down at the kitchen floor watching the tiles gently undulate and you wonder if the tiles are moving to the rhythm of your breathing and in the span of a millisecond you wonder whether perception reflects true reality or is a subject of immediate sensations and then what constitutes reality anyways beyond the shared experience of an individual with themselves or rather is it possible that there is a reality beyond ourselves or is that some selfish internal bullshit that can’t accept the existence of anything external outside of me?


Ok get yourself together.  You’re rolling pretty hard.  It’s been awhile.Feels good. So good.

Nothing we haven’t done before.

Smoke a cig.

Get back out there.

There’s a lot going on.

Heavy bass music pulses through the thin wooden door of the bathroom and it’s like we’re noticing it for the first time.  Our eyes half-closed we look up and we smile at nobody but the air.We’re so happy. So excited. So happy.So happy.

This is why they call it extasy.

It’s pure…






I’m gonna dance my ass off.  I don’t give a fuck.

I don’t give a fuck how I look.

Who’s out there.

Who notices me.

Getting laid.

Not getting laid.



Getting anywhere.


Who cares.

I’m gonna fucking

I’m gonna fucking



Right then the song D.A.N.C.E. by Justice comes on. 

You bolt up off the toilet and go “WOO! THIS IS MY FUCKING JAM YO!”

You start wiggling around spasmodically.

You’re breathing is rapid and your chest feels too big.  Like every breath you take fills a tenth of what it normally does.  You take bigger breaths and you grab onto your chest. 

“Water.  Oh my god water.”

You take a few more breaths and lean over the sink.  Turn that fucking faucet hurry up.  You put one hand under the stream and cup it and you stick your mouth into your hand and gulp greedily.  A fucking rainforest river-stream is like God’s Sacred piss from the heavens flowing into you and oh my god we will survive Ms. Gaynor! We will fucking survive this crazy-ass night that’s about to go down! About ta fucking motherfucking shit piss nigger faggot cunt spic chink snowby (that’s my new racial slur for whiteys) gook bitch kyke dyke ….uh…any more offensive inner thoughts?  About to fucking go DOWN! It’s so fun to be offensive and aggressive and hateful in our head.  No one knows and hating inside lets it go straight turnt up.The party in your head is orgies, debauchery, hate, love, and you’re flying high rolling with the flow.  Gonna fuck myself tonight so nice.Fuck my body’s rhythm.Be at one with everything and everyone.We love everyone.  As ugly and disgusting as all of them are.  We hate them and wish we could disintegrate them. Or we love them the beauties they all are and wish we could intertwine completely with them.

It’s just another kind of dance right.

Love and hate.

The dance of life.

War and Sex.

Birth and death.


We need a cigarette.

You pull out your pack and take one out by your teeth.  Watch the flame from your lighter flicker and take a few deep drags.

You sigh loudly.

“This is good shit.” You murmur.

You smoke half the cigarette. 

Next songs on.

It’s a good one.

Oh my god it’s one of the best.

You toss the cigarette into the toilet.

You look at your eyes one more time in the mirror.

Huge.  Your pupils are fucking huge.

You laugh loudly and unlock the door.

You throw it open and strut out into the curtain of darkness interlaced by smoke and lines of colorful lights disappearing into the throng of writhing and sweaty bodies beyond.

And then there’s a flash.

Not one you can see.

But it’s blood behind your eyes.

Boiling away your brain with static and thrashing screaming demons.

And you stop a second.

You can’t put words to the feeling.

But suddenly you see the whole party.

The whole party.

All the people rubbing up against each other.  Sweaty and panting.  In each of their stomachs is contained varying levels of food, drugs, booze, shit, semen.  You can see them all.  Enclosed in this humid little building.  You can see outside the building.  Many more like it.  Endless.And all the people milling about.Tapping away their lives in front of frozen shining lit screens.Screeching at each other amidst storms and seas of raucous noise.Forging paths to nowhere encased by a blue pearl that’s a cage of atmospheric gases.  Which hurtles through a void of stardust that swirls into itself and becomes but spheres encircling larger and heavier spheres.  And the atom is no different than the galaxy.  And all the people are but as ants.


Snap back.

The party is going strong.

Come on. Forget. Forget.

Go back to the bathroom.


I can’t.

You sob without tears and put a hand over your mouth.

I can’t.

Hurry hurry hurry hurry.

Your hands are shaking as you pull out a little plastic dime bag.

You’ve got two more capsules half full of creamy white powder.

You take one cap out between two fingers and, panting, split it open.  You look up towards the ceiling.

You need it.


You hold the capsule over your nostril and sniff hard as you empty its contents into your sinuses.

You sniff hard several times.

Fuck. It’s clumping.




That hurts.

Your eyes are watering and a tear drips down from one of your eyes.

You stare up at the light and ignore the burning that’s like a strip of hot sandpaper scraping from the back of your sinuses into your throat and esophagus.

It’s a miracle your septum’s still intact.

You stay like that for a while.  Staring up at the light.  Not thinking.Just sniffing hard.Waiting for the white dagger of dry-ice pain to quit tearing apart the tunnels of your face.


We need a cigarette.

Look down and everything’s blurry.  I could just parachute it.  Don’t even have to dome it really.But I want it to hit full. I want it to hit fast.

And there’s something about snorting a drug that makes it feel more legit.  Like in the movies you don’t see people eating cocaine or smoking heroin.  They snort and shoot that shit.

Ok but molly is the worst drug to snort people generally don’t do that.

Yeah right.

Fuck it.

I’ll snort methadone.  I’ll snort Vicodin.I’d snort weed if I could.

I just want to get higher and higher.

When did this cigarette get in our hands?

We spark it and god it’s sooooo good.  Soooo good.

Breathe smoke.  Breathe it deep.It’s SOOOOO gooooood.

A warm blanket blossoming in our chests.  Soothes everything.  Watch how the smoke comes out of our dragon nostrils dances around like a flimsy model of an ephemeral universe.

Then it kicks in.

Ohhhhh babbyyyyy

That’s too good.

I’m rolling so hard.

We might as well take another one.

Go all out.

So you do.

Same way.

Look up ath the light that sears into your retinas a burning sun you can carry around in only your vision as a secret negative for a while.

And god.

We leave over the sink drooling for a while.

Being nothing.

We are nothing in these moments.  Just


Permanent. Eternal.  We’ve been like this forever.  There’s no thought. No memory.

Numbness not even.

Just this.


A globule of blood spills from a nostril a dollops into the sink splatters a thousand little droplet shards around itself and it’s an altar of our life leaking into our draining thoughts and we smile a bit how pretty the ruby jewel of our insides are.

You pull up a hand from across eons and oceans and mash it to your nostril and leave a streak of red there.

Gottaaaaaaaa gettttt backkkkk out. There.

You gotta get ahold of yourself.

Remember we’re trying to party fucking hard tonight.

Can’t get caught up in the sensations in the bathroom.

But my body feels


Sooooo good.

Oh my god.






Holy fuck.


We have to have sex.


Our body is


We have to

Stop it.


Stop it.

Play it cool.

It never comes when you’re this desperate.

But sex.

Cooool it.


Feels so good.

Oh my god.

Extasy. Sex. Sextasy.

GEt iT? gEt iIT?


oh myyyyyy


we’re breaking up.

Static pounding behind our eyes.







Going dotty.



NO! Dammit. Get a fucking grip.

Another head dunk into the sink and you’re gulping water by the stomachful. 


Sweet nectar of the gods.  Water is the only thing we needed that’s all.

But sEX?

Yes yes but first. Sweet Hydrogen Oxygen 2.


And now you do a little twirl as you stand up.

See?  You’re fine.

Not some crazy junkie or something.  About to break or something.  I got no fat left though.I’ll probably cross over sooner than I think cuz I strain myself too far too many times but that’s ok that’s the way I wanna go like this too high to know myself too high to be something too high too high too high

Gotta be as high


Something to be free

Something to be nothing

Break life

Not just die

Break free

Break life.

Break free.

Break free.

I’m fine.  Shut up. I’m fine.

You stare at yourself for a while.  Your pupils look all strange and mismatched.  We don’t know what to do here anymore.  We want to go change something.  Change…now.Yes we’ve got to change this moment.Switch.  Switch. Come on.  Out of the fucking bathroom.  You stumble around and you stop. Stand straight.  Come on. I got this.  Look up.  Another cigarette. Puff. Puff.Watch it plume up.So pretty.  Get your fucking head on straight.  You’re rolling so hard.  There’s a party outside. 


I am sunlight.

We are sunlight.

You are sunlight.

Dripping everywhere.  Under our skin.We are one. One is all.Everything…everything is connected.Conjoined.  Beautiful.

You look at yourself through nothing.  You’re able to see yourself from far away.  From up close.See you can float out of your body.It’s only a vessel an anchor a cheap imitation of what we really are.

And you float and stare at yourself and you see just how beautiful you were in this singular moment.

But stop.

Everything is motionless.

But stop.

Everything is music, paintings, movies, the fingers the hairs of God intertwined as light and webs.

We shudder.

Snap out of it.

Come on.

Step forward into the dark throbbing lights my child. 

And so we breathe deeply.  We hear the pulse and the heartbeat of these walls come as humanoid desperation.  Yes this is the right place.

Open the door and we’re back out onto the dance floor.

A remixed version of Treasure by Bruno Mars comes on.

“Ohhh SHIIIIT!” you scream and several people around you are smiling and laughing and green and white laser-like lights cut through the smoke swirling in the air and leaps from cup to cup dipping rays into liquid and light is something we drink to make ourselves filled with the essence of the places we wish to be in our minds and in our lives.It’s some kind of rave-like mix of this song.Somehow you end up over by the bar and there’s a pretty girl wearing almost nothing with neon glowing paint in spirals and wild designs over her bare skin.  She smiles softly but widely at you and you’re feeling so good and you say to her, “I feel so good!” And she smiles and says the same and you make some kind of joke something like, “All these remixes everythings mixed up now just like us.” Was it a joke? Was it sadness? Was it happiness?  It was sunlight in the dark.  Sunlight is always in the dark.  It’s lost in the emptiness of the cosmos but oh how it reaches out towards other spheres circling silently screaming lost everything lost in the void in the vacuum of the SPACE between us and we are as islands as lost and lonely galaxies clinging desperately to ourselves and our attempt to integrate other pieces of the cosmos into ourselves.

Until we break apart again.

And so you have her now.

And she is exquisite.  Shining brighter than any light in the room.  Shining brighter than the sun.

You taste her neck.

Sweat and skin and raw aching desire.

The rhythm of the air quivering in space becomes a twitch in our lips and our genitals and our hands are wrapping around her becoming a slither and a growl like an earthquake coming up beneath the sea of chaos within our torment is our ache for thou.

We say to us that were her,


And you bite your lip as she reaches under your shirt her fingers scraping along your abdomen.  Her nails make your skin prickle up and she swathes over around your waist and to your back touching along the crack of your spine and up to the corner of your shoulder blade just barely tickling you and you sigh/moan/groan in extasy in extasy that you are falling into through a dark-lit star expanse bathing in the yolk of silver and you can see how a finger of the sun gently caresses the moon and reflects back deep into you and you are nuclear in this moment you are the machinations of the universe become explosive condolences at the sorrow of our loneliness for in this moment you are us and we are many for we are not alone when she and he are in reality and you gaze down upon her and your movements are symbols and are the words of your birth and your destiny was right here all along in this very moment and the world beyond melts away from thought and perception and this space that exists as your sensations of thought and immediate reality are overpowered by the truth.  The truth of this moment alone.

Her eyes are endless.

You fall into them.

And then you’re kissing.

She makes animal noises.

The crowd around us presses in from all sides.  There is no respite from them and none is needed.  They push slightly out of the way as we circle in a few steps touching each other in heavy and held back throes.  We are one writhing mass and the MDMA pounds in my temples and pushes my eyeballs far beyond the air and a curtain comes apart and we see the pipes the dinosaurs installed before humans came and now we see. 

Push it further.






The bass booms and it’s like glass shards piercing in my brain and I am agitation unbound.  You gotta take this bitch. Now. Now. Now. FUkcinG NoW.

So we do.

You’re in the bathroom with her.

No need to even take our clothes off.

Soft.  Her lips are soft. 

Hard. Her lips are hard.

The way we push and pull at each other.  Wet and  warm.The song of the orgasm comes from across the sea of sensation within our minds lapping as deft tongue flickers against the light of our shores and

OH please


The silent scream within us screams

You must

You must

Take me


From us

And so we cannot think

And we are the push and pull

That is the pulse of our systematic lust throe pulse pulse pulsing in our sorrow unkempt by mere mortal bonds unshackled by the shadow nestled in each caress and each token of our act of love for that is what we do in this moment we FUcK we FUCK we fUcKKK


It is thus an act of LOVE.

Show me you want me.  Show me you want me. 

Her body cries out to me.

And my body screams to itself.

We are sensation.  We are throbbing nerve endings.  We are desire for connection.We are emptiness yearning to be filled with experiences to make light and darkness a swirling kindness a swirling kiss in of itself.

And we are the music cutting through the air, our skulls, our whimpering blood that sloshes and engorges our receptors.

So we become erogenous zones.  As we have always been yet heightened by our temporary infatuation with each other.  An infatuation that is the best of words.  When the trace of symbolically shared meaning is no longer needed and the oldest language, the music of the universe, explodes out through each miniscule movement we display at each other through our lulls through our shatters.  And it is microscopic and the hallucinating complications of mass communication is only understood as a conglomerate of what is the present.And the present is you touching them.Them touching you.

And god. And god.

The touch.

I miss you.  I miss you so.

We weep to ourselves.  We yearn. 
For we are alone.

Always alone.

And we heave.  And we buck. 

Like batteries leaking acid into each other. 

You put a trace of you in them.  They put a trace of them in you.

And suddenly the chaos the storm the tornado the rushing hurricane of breathless anticipation that lasted too long has broken in a singularity of existence that is the crazed battle roar of orgasm

And we are but here.

Throbbing in painless melody.  Harmonious in our post-coital stupor.

We kiss and glow neon ultraviolet

I see the extasy in our bloodstreams exploding rainbows moving back and forth through the air between us swimming particles of joy and fulfillment

And a cutting swathe of absence that is void.

For we will consume ourselves but over and over and over again.

No condom we spurted deep into her womb.

Years pass like this.  Here in the darkness of the bathroom unlit by individual weariness. 

We no longer need false traces of the forgotton Day.

No more to remind us of the Deathly Glare of the Sun that shows us too much.

She gives birth in the bathroom before us.

You stare at the child, full of Life.  The child a glowing orb of intoxicating euphoria.

Was this our life’s fulfillment?

She cradles the child as a herpetic lesion blooms as a bundle of cauliflower-like warts around her eyelids.  They spread down upon her face glowing bright green.Popping after a few seconds.Leaking thick green pus that drips upon the child.The goo sizzles and the child screeches as a rotten stench like dead sulfuric volcanic pits in a tainted anus fills the bathroom.

Light flickers darkly.

You weep burning.

Each tear is a bleeding gash of anguish that runs down your skin all the way to the soles of your feet and they are like acid opening you up and showing her just what you truly are and you scream and wail and scream.


You have this.

Smoke fills the air.

Sharp stabbing white in your nostrils.






Fucking slut. Bitch. Whore. Cunt.

Her smudgy asshole bumping against your pubic bone.  Leaving a dab of chocolate-brown.  Flat rank smell of rectum blanketing out and hiding in the folds of air around your face.


Repeat process.

Now you see the blood boil black in your bloodstream.

Three letters of fear.




Boil into.





More.  We need more.

You see a bundle of furious-crimson sores riddling along her spine.  They reflect where you have touched. 

A family of drugs.  A family of disease.A family of extasy in motion.Extatic Love.

And this is all you’ll ever be.

You flip the light switch.

The music stops.  The crowd stops.There is silence.

You are alone.

There is no HER. There is no BABY.

There is only you.

Staring in the mirror.

Your pupils small.  Pindotted. 

What are we doing here?

The light is bright.

We stare up and see the sun hanging as the bulb.

It is leaking solar liquid upon you.

You weep as it sears you at your center.

It slowly drips down and drenches you. 

Like childhood memories.  You taste tangy and sweet nectar through your skin.  Moments of heady haze to never obtain again.

An island to press against and search for and only drown in the depths of a sea of sewage that is the stench surrounding.

And we are covered in it.

Sticky. Sweet. Sunlit.

For a moment we shine as bright as the Stars.

For a moment we are shining from our centers and from our borders.

For a moment we are pure.

The light quickly fades.

You stare at yourself through thick smoke at a mirror.

You gaze into a reflection which does naught but gaze steadily back.


© Copyright 2018 Imit Zeha. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: