Psychonaut

Cool burning in throat.
Not so viscous.
Supremely unpleasant.
Onset in an hour.
Gentle weight.
Lids pulled down slightly like shades.
Absolute calm.
Camaraderie.
Some time passes.
Pull self onto his bed.
Difficulty.
Fall headfirst.
Humor.
Sprawl there smirking.
Soft.
"Play some fucking music!"
Music plays.
Sing along.
Voice a strange entity.
Tranquility, euphoria.
Want my camera.
Intention to document.
Walk up stairs.
Go on first floor.
Live on second.
Giggles to self.
Ascends higher.
Lumber to room.
Return to his.
Back on his bed.
Time passes.
Want to explore third floor.
He agrees.
Slide clumsily off his bed.
Drunkenness.
Floor is closer than expected.
Found walls nudging shoulders.
Rails help up the stairs.
Person on stairway.
"Have a nice weekend, too!"
Smiles to self.
Feigning sober.
Didn't do it right.
Cannot assimilate with humanity.
Back to his room.
Feet no longer on floor.
Whole self is.
Disallowed on his bed again.
Hugging wall.
He takes some pictures.
Sit in chair instead.
More pictures.
Lapse in memory.
More music.
Recognize some of it.
A general thing.
Head and eyelids fall.
Blackness.
Closed-eye visuals.
A row of trees shoots out from the screen.
Lapse in time.
Lapse in memory.
Music.
New visual with each song.
Brown and black patterns.
"I've been here before!"
Seen it in dreams.
"They don't know anything."
"We just go to the same place where we dream."
Like hypnagogia.
"We're all connected."
"Everything is connected."
"I should tell my psych professor."
Lapse in everything.
Inquire about time.
Minutes or hours?
Eyes closed.
Talking?
Everything like a lucid dream.
Open eyes again.
Everything as it should be.
Close them again.
Visuals.
Self in five places.
Five different realities of nonexistence.
Open eyes.
Water bottles?
Knocking things over to get to them.
Leaden limbs.
Immense gravity.
"Oops..."
Instinct brings bottle to mouth.
Muted sensation in lips.
Parched!
Aqua flows down gullet.
Immense nausea.
Greater dehydration.
Stomach in one corner of room.
Throat in another.
Some other part somewhere else.
How are they connected?
Fucked up.
Scared.
Loving it.
"We control our own trips."
Calming.
Head strikes bedpost.
Shades down.
Back to the visuals.
Mouth parts slightly.
Images spread like spilled water.
Pixel by pixel in mind.
The quad.
A restaurant.
Hicks?
Strange yellow room with stucco.
Lamps.
Mix of my dorm and his.
Paintings on the wall.
Try to form her body.
Fail.
Want her.
Let things happen on their own.
Lapse in time.
Open eyes again.
More water.
Still can't believe quantity drank.
Bottle quivers in hand.
Disconnected organs again.
"I don't exist."
Lapse in time.
Lapse in space.
Lapse in self.
Lapse in memory.
Lapse.
Lapse.
Lapse.
Lapselapselapse.
Open eyes perhaps a few times.
"You're going to bed?"
Fear.
He says no.
Pajamas say otherwise.
Somehow manage to get on feet.
Shoes are problematic.
Step on tongue.
Go out door.
Go to lounge.
Lapse in memory.
He is somewhere.
Feel like shit incarnate.
Stuck in two realms.
Doppelgänger?
Blackout.
A girl hovers on the trashcan.
Projectile vomiting.
Lament for the girl.
On foot.
In and out of consciousness.
Voices in background.
View shifts.
Reality sets in.
Saw self in third person.
Peel self from trashcan.
He urges to go.
He urges to go faster.
Forgot how to walk.
Somehow make it to stairs.
Three flights to go.
One step at a time.
Exaggerate steps like a giant.
Drunken people behind.
Probably laughing.
Somehow arrive to second floor.
Go to room.
Put head down on desk.
Align trashcan underneath.
"What should I do?"
Go to bathroom.
Nausea.
Dreaful nausea.
No reprieve.
Return to room.
"I'm a dreadful person."
"I'm so stupid."
"I swear I'll never do anything again."
Lifting head increases nausea.
Keep it down.
"I'm sorry."
Over and over.
He is reassuring.
Abject tiredness.
"I will sleep like this".
Talking.
Mental sobriety creeps back in.
Body plays catch-up.
Lie on floor.
It is a slope.
Cold and hard.
To bed via chair.
Lie sideways.
He leaves with reluctance.
"I'll be okay."
Sleeplessness.
Body is a desert.
Four hours later on feet.
Service-learning, tutoring.
The tutor does drugs.
Morbid humor.
Hangover?
Veiled in a haze.
Errors in perception.
Absolutely lethargy.
...


And I can still taste it on my tongue.