zolpidem

feeling a restless, sleepless night ahead of me, i innocently inquired, “father, do you have any sleeping medications?”
a short talk about the addictive properties of the pill later,
i had one in my hand. ambien, 10mg.

then came the research… methods… hmm…
it appears the best way to take this little pill is it insufflate it into my two cavernous noseholes.
chop, scrape, chop. a fine little pile of white powder.

i hesitate for a moment, imagining my father walking into my room only to see me leaning over my desk, rolled up 10 dollar bill pointed directly at the well cut line. i wonder if he would have thrown it away. or had me eat it. or any number of other things, oh well, that didn’t happen.

Two sniffs: “Shhhhhhhck” and “Schhhhhhhhhck“

first thoughts:
not too bad. not nearly as bad as those research chemicals.
actually, easy.
i should clean up.
i feel something in my motor system may be awry.
best remedy for that, the doctor tells me, is a cigarette, so,

square time.

whilst outside smoking. i noticed i was considerably less graceful than i normally was. i felt like i was standing on a pontoon boat moving at something like 10,000 knots. but oh god is this nice. i feel pleasantly at ease. and that cigarette was so wonderful i just might require another.

i’m dreaming all of this, aren’t i?