I am Adam

I'm listening to Mum right now - the music of dreams, it seems. Check them out sometime when you have a while to be by yourself - someplace devoid of distractions. A lakeside, an overlook. Somewhere - but make sure it is quiet and in view of something beautiful. Then put on their album "Finally We Are No One". Sit back, and dream.

So the other day I decided after two beers that I wanted to try weed. It was something I had been thinking about trying for quite a while, but never enough to seek it out. So when it happened to arise on the couch next to me at my friend's apartment, I asked if I could join. I can't ask you to not think less of me, as it is definitely something I don't condone. And after the other night, it is most assuredly something I hope you never try.

Let me start by saying this: last Sunday night was the most mentally and physically terrifying night of my life. So as I stated previously, earlier in the night I had had two beers, which I thought had left my system entirely by the time we got back to the apartment. I discovered later that although the effects of alcohol may wear off, it is still very much present in your system after the feeling subsides. So my friend smokes extremely potent weed (this I found out later), which friends from work later said was the strongest pot they had ever had (quite a statement coming from people who have smoked for most of their lives). I was unaware of this fact when I partook, about eight times in fact, of the joint.

I felt nothing at first until suddenly I turned towards Adam and watched his mouth form words that I was either unable to hear or understand. The moisture in my mouth disappeared, but it was too late to get water. My body felt as if it were seperating atom by atom as my mind floated around the space where I had once been sitting. I could not move, I could not form words, I could not process what was before my eyes. I have no idea how long I sat there - based on a friend's account it was only about an hour before I fell asleep, but for all I knew I had entered enternity - my body tumbling and rolling uncontrollably across itself. I watched thoughts flash across my open eyes like fast-forwarded movie credits or the blinking lights of a ferris wheel. I tried to think about something, but before I could focus another thought had flashed before me - scrolling ever downward across my eyes and through my body. My heart must've made an audible hum as it beat what felt like a thousand times every minute. The only thought I recall being conscious of was my feeble pray for God to make it stop - return my body and my mind back to themselves.

Give me movement - give me air - give me thoughts - give me feeling - give me myself.

I tried to lay down and fall asleep, but each attempt was quickly upset by violent vomitting, which by no means altered or made subside whatever state I had thrust myself into. I must've thrown up ten or more times, my head lying in the trash can after each violent battle with my own body and mind.

I had no concept of beginning or end - the only thing I was aware of was excruciating pain - both mental and physical, and my fear that it would never end. I lost the capacity to remember the basic facts that remind us of our own existence in the world: Samuel Slaton, 19 years old, New York City - name, age, location. I lost myself as I sat perched over the trash can, sweat pouring from my face, tears streaming from my eyes, vomit coursing from my mouth and nose. The last thing I remember before waking up the next morning was someone pulling me back onto the couch and laying my head on a pillow.

I've always desired experiences - adventure, people, life, etc - all the things that inspire books, songs, and poetry. Last Sunday night I subjected myself to a hell I never imagined I would enter. I understand now what people mean when they say that one must face the Devil in order to fully appreciate God.

I am Adam, and I am sorry.