Post by SANITAGO ATTICUS KING on Dec 29, 2010 22:59:23 GMT
MOVE YOUR BODY WHEN THE SUNLIGHT DIES
EVERYBODYHIDEYOURBODY
[ F R O M T H E S C A R E C R O W; E V E R Y B O D Y H I D E ]
The biggest difference between the place that he was in now and the places that he’d been before was the fact that the asylum staff didn’t give a fuck. It was true. Since he’d been there he’d managed to get high off of something almost every night. As far as he knew it was like that for all the addicts. In fact he was pretty sure all the different groups were getting off on something that they weren’t supposed to. What was this place good for anyways? Of course Santiago was pondering this after he’d just split and eighth of shrooms with a couple of his room mates. This was a reoccurring scene between him and the rest of the people here. Santiago was also deeply convinced the every once in a while even the staff got in on some of the illegal activities that were going on in the asylum. There were a lot of things that Santiago hated about this place but the staff not caring was not one of those things.
While the group was “seeing the universe” it was common practice to lock yourself in the room. It was a safe way of making sure that illegal activities stayed on the down low, not that most of the inmates cared if the got caught or not. Santiago was one of the ones that could care less if the staff found him high or not but the locking of the door was more of a certousy to the other people that did care. Plus the fact that they weren’t his shrooms to begin with, beggars can’t be chooser. The group moved around the room at will touching things, seeing thing, and saying things that they normally wouldn’t if they were in their right mind. In Santiago’s opinion you wouldn’t be doing shrooms if you were in your right mind in the first place. So basically he thought that everybody in the room was insane, including himself.
The effect that the shrooms had on Santiago was a disappointing one. The high only lasted about three hours. He figured that he’d done it so many times that he was starting to build up a tolerance for it, so maybe an eighth wasn’t good enough. Santiago made a mental not to try more next time. As he was coming down he could feel it. The come down always made his joints hurt just a little he wasn’t sure why and he was sure that nobody else had this experience. It was something that he was willing to live with though.
Once he was confident that he was able to function enough to where it looked like he was okay, Santiago left the room. In all actuality he probably shouldn’t have but there are a lot of things that he probably shouldn’t have done hence why he’s in an asylum. Santiago walked down the vary empty hallways. There wasn’t ever a lot of noise here, that coupled with the eerie gray glow that the place seemed to have would have been enough to drive someone up the walls. Santiago made his way thought the building, out the front door, and over the lawn to and small abandoned building that was on the property. You couldn’t even really call it a building it was more of a hut.
The hut was where Santiago had been keeping is stash of drugs. They were in a small shoe box under one of the floor boards. The shoe box had everything you could think of from coke and heroin to ganja and acid. In some sick way he was kind of proud of his little box. Santiago opened the door to the hut and went straight for the box in the floor board. He lifted up the board and pulled out the box. In the box he retrieved a bowl and a packed it with some weed. It probably wasn’t a good idea to mix the shrooms that were still in his system with the weed but he couldn’t give two shits. Unknown to the rest of the world, Santiago did this kind of stuff because he knew it would kill him faster.
Santiago sat Indian style in the floor and started to smoke his medical grade marijuana. “Mmmm good, ” he said to himself.
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