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Extasy Joints (Freezing Gun Death)
Dec 9, 2008

 

It was Cody's idea to bring us on this overnight trip to a place with a sound studio. Stacy packed her and my bags - she had a turquoise bag, and I had a grey bag she had bought me earlier as a birthday present.

when we arrived, the scene was hectic, like moving day in the dorms.

the sound studio was impressive. a loft, all in white, there was a balcony with a sound proof room, and then the main space with a drum set and other equipment.

We would be staying for two nights. I stood with cody at a vending machine whose title had Obama in it. Only good things came out of it. Cody produced extasy pills from his pocket and gave me two, one for me, one for you. I put them into the vending machine and the machine reprocessed them into little joints. the paper had some special taste and effect, and the extasy's effects were not diminished. Cody ate some right then and there and expected me to do the same, but I told him I wanted to wait for Ting.

There were things constantly on my mind throughout the hectic scenery of people unloading equiptment, moving around, moving in and out of rooms. Are my cameras ok? I wont lose anything, will I? Where will I put the extasy pills so that I dont lose them? Should we do them tonight or the next night? Where is the bathroom? I showed you the little joint-like extasy bundles, and you were perplexed. I explained what they were and why they looked the way they did, and then you became excited. You wanted to do them but i suggested that tomorrow night would be better. You and I went separate ways, meeting the various people who were moving into rooms next to ours and exploring the exterior yards, which were similar if not identical to my elementary school playgrounds.

I really wanted to get to the studio to see who was playing music or what they would be doing there, but I kept worrying about losing track of my stuff, so I hovered mostly around my room. Next door there were two hippy girls moving in. Some stocky dark haired guy kept coming to and from the studio, and I kept asking him what's going on in the studio, and he always spoke cryptically, almost jibing, as if I were asking about a place I had no business inquiring about. Our interludes happened either inside or outside at a particular spot in the playground, where in previous dreams I'd had previous disputes with people.
In the end it would become more than jibing; it would become outright criticism. He would ask me how old I was. He would suggest that my haircut looks like the haircut of a cancer patient.

There were many people in this place: maybe a hundred or two hundred. At first they were all inside, doing whatever they were there to do. it started to rain very hard. I could not find you. I was trying to pack up all our stuff and move it inside before it got ruined in the rain. the extasy started to dissolve in my hand before i could pack it away, so I swallowed mine, licking the pellets of chemical that were undoing themselves onto my sleeve. I found you in time to give you yours, and then you disappeared again.

Stacy and I were on the roof of the one story building, and as she stood on the newest addition (just like my elementary school) it caved in under the rain. There were gasps, but she was ok.

I dont remember how it came to this, but in the end, there was a weapon, some kind of freezing gun. you pour some stuff on someone, then you shoot them, and they freeze up, like Terminator 2, remixed. That did not seem like a lawful execution to me. I was able to get the gun, and when I did, I ran throughout the yard. The rain had lessoned but it was all still wet and messy. I saw two or three figures hiding behind trees at the end of the yard (near where I hid with Chris McLean when i threw the rock at Amy LeClair) and I knew they were going to be the victims of this freezing gun death if I did not speak up. I went into the middle of the yard. It was now crowded with people. When I spoke it echoed against the walls of the building.

I spoke eloquently and boldy about the need for understanding and peace. I said that no one would want to die this way, and that we should be sensitive to our fellow human beings.

I didnt receive applause, and i'm not even sure most of the people there in yard liked or cared for my speech. Still, it diffused things and I felt better. That's when the dude who was chiding me before walked up next to me and told me i had a haircut like a cancer patient. It was ok though, I had accomplished something.

i attributed my guts to speak up to the effects of the extasy, but now I wanted to know, where were you? you did not see my speech. you were somewhere else.
I wanted to spend the rest of my extasy trip with you. When i got back inside, a couple of the girls brought you to me. Had you been sleeping? you stuck your tongue out at me and said something flippant and turned into our room to get your bags.

I guess it was time to go home.