Legends

For a Light Up

          So sadly, I carry on my way to the next party, feeling dejected that I still haven't gotten my cigarette. Regardless, I'm ready to continue this chaotic night.

          .   .   .   .   .

          8:47 pm

          The sun is just going down at this point—the true essence of the party life. I enter my closer buddy's house,  and they're already tripping and getting weird with one another. I don't have a whole lot of time here until I have to be at the next party, so we talk it up for about forty-five minutes while the LSD gradually kicks in, on top of the alcohol I've been sipping gradually already tonight. Man...a cigarette would be even better right now. Too bad this particular group of friends doesn't smoke, or at least one of them did, but she quit a while back. I would kill for one right now.

          As I start to see the walls and ceiling morph around me slightly, considering I didn't take too large of a dose, I'm already heading off again and to an underground concert held by an up-and-coming band of the university. But before I go, I ask my buddy if I can borrow a dollar in case I spot someone again with a cigarette, and he gives in. I'm sure there will be people smoking to the sounds of the band playing, along with more alcohol and drugs for me to consume.

          All right.

          Time to head to the concert.

          .   .   .   .   .

          9:57 pm

          God, music is incredible when you're tripping. The energy of the underground band is magnificent. Everyone is laughing, talking, socializing, and most importantly fucked up and intoxicated. But one problem—no one is smoking cigarettes. I look all around, making eye contact with dozens of other rebellious college students, but can't seem to find one. Feeling somewhat annoyed, I'm offered some mushrooms to increase the psych effects, and obviously I don't turn them down. I take a handful, not even measuring out an approximate dosage, and begin downing them with another can of beer and chewing their awful, dirt-like taste. 

          Ugh...I need a cigarette!

          .   .   .   .   .

          11:34 am

          Considering I'm off the acid, shrooms, and pretty much drunk at this point, time has gone by extremely slowly. I see in a blurry manner that it's approaching midnight, yet my night is only beginning. I have at least four more parties to go to, and know that either way, I'll never be able to sleep with all these mixtures of drugs in my system. 

          Once again saying goodbye to the group of people at the underground band, I'm off to do some of the harder drugs tonight at my dealer's house. Of course, on the way out of the band, I check to see if there's anyone smoking a cigarette, but once again I'm unsuccessful.

          .   .   .   .   .

          12:12 am

          I'm now forced to take the subway train to meet my plug, as I have a monthly pass for all local city transit. I have a difficult time keeping my eyes open as I hold onto the railing above to balance my intoxicated being out. People can obviously tell that I'm messed up on something—or several things, should we say—but it doesn't phase me. I'm always like this. 

          When I get off the subway, I see a man waiting for the train with his headphones plugged in, smoking a cigarette.

          Finally, I think to myself.