Something New

May 11, 1998


I took a rib laced with heroin tonight. I’m still feeling the effects even though it’s been a good four hours since I’ve taken it. My thoughts cannot form sentences and even when they do, I’ll forget the main topic seconds later. My eyes are heavy with sleep but physically I don’t want to stop until I collapse. Four in the morning is disregarded as a foreign language. The hallucinations are kicking in and I feel paranoia touch me on the shoulder, but it is overcome by this feeling of acid in my stomach. How long have I been out here leaning against a wooden porch vulnerable to any hidden presence that might threaten my state of being? Cool air finally finds his way into my skin. It comes and goes, and for now, it has subsided. The quick fix of my one-hitter over-powers the effects of the pill taken just moments ago, and as I finally lift my eyes I can notice my disappointment. This is a feeling known all too well but it is not a bad thing, it is comfort for disappointment was my landmark leading to normality. Once again the stranger returns leaving me somewhere between absolute confusion and anticipated chaos. This was not to be expected.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist