I don’t know what to
expect. I’ve had it before and it’s been good, but sometimes it’s been better
than others. Furthermore, my memory of speed is polluted with the memory of
other similar drugs that have a “speedy effect’ but are not technically speed.
Drugs like BZP, and Ritalin (methylphenidate), caffeine and Red Bull (if you
can call that last one a drug - but why not?). Also, I have tried a drug called
adrafinil, which is in the nootropic or ‘smart drug’ category. Nootropics are
not really a speed in that they don’t give you much of a physical feeling of
energy - at least not the sort of nervous energy that speed can give you, but
rather a type of mental energy, a mental clarity. Nothing is forcefully sped
up, but the drug allows the brain to work more efficiently so you feel the feeling
of things going faster because your thoughts are able to progress from one to
another faster than they would usually be able to go, and therefore, you move faster
toward your end goal - psychologically speaking that is. Physically, you are
able to move faster on adrafinil because your brain controls your physical
actions, and a brain on adrafinil can make decisions about which physical
movements to make in less time. I’ve always wondered though about these
fantastic rushes I heard of people getting from speed. Heroin at its best has
given me some pretty fucking fantastic rushes but definitely not the sort I
would imagine you would get from speed (methamphetamine). Heroin covers us in
warmth and peace, and makes us feel as though there is a wall that separates
everything in the universe that can or has caused us hurt. Speed, I imagined,
would be a bolt of lightning to the brain, a physical connection to my higher
power outlet, an instant rejuvenation and a feeling of invincibility.
Well, it sort of was
like that. I didn’t know how much I should have, so I left it up to my patron.
How about a fifty bag? “Sounds good to me”, I
said to him. And then he left me alone with my rites.
As I said, I didn’t
really know how much I should have. I may not have known much about speed, but
I could see that this stuff was pure. The word at the local needle exchange was that
there was a lot of pure stuff around, and this looked like it. I was pleased
about this for two reasons: firstly because pure speed is strong speed, and
secondly because pure speed is easily dissolved in water with no need for anything
like citric acid or even heat. I had to be careful because I knew that even
though the amount I had was a tiny volume, I didn’t know how strong it was. In
the end I went for the whole amount at once. I was pretty sure I would want to
have all of it and I could always stop half way through injecting it and see
how I felt.
I tipped the bags
contents out on to the spoon I had prepared and added about half a milliliter
to the bag to wash any residue out. A quick stir to make sure all of the drug
was dissolved and it was ready to draw into the syringe. I dropped a little bit
of a wood-fiber filter into the spoon and drew the clear liquid into the syringe. And then I
was ready to fly.
As I readied my
tourniquet I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Not so much that anything bad
would happen but that not enough would happen. I wanted to be impressed by a
shot for once, instead of what I have felt the majority of times I have injected
any drug – disappointed and pissed off! I slid the 27-gauge stainless steel needle through the scar-hardened skin of my inner arm and felt the release as the pick
entered the vein and the blood within it. I removed the tourniquet and began to
slowly but steadily depress the plunger so the 1.5 milliliters of fluid started
to leave the plastic chamber and enter the chamber of my flesh. I got to the
halfway point and took a quick status check – ‘any sensations?’ ‘Any lightness
beginning in the head?’ ‘No, well let’s continue. (I hope this stuff is bloody
well going to work!) So I keep pushing the plunger down until the chamber is empty. Then, as I usually do, keeping the needle in the vein I draw a half ml of blood into the syringe with the theory in mind that it will wash any remaining
amount of the drug out of the syringe and into the bloodstream. Then I sit back
and wait for the drug to hit – but there is nothing… oh, wait! There’s
something. My chest is expanding. There is a warmth spreading from my chest up
the back of my neck and rippling through my scalp. It’s getting stronger. It’s
not stopping! OH MY FUCKING JESUS CHRIST!! THIS IS FUCKING FANTASTIC!!!! It
feels like the fog is lifting and my brain is all of a sudden alive again. I
like this and want more.
