You tell yourself you have a handle on it, that it’s not so bad. You catch yourself looking down at that once-precious, bleeding, now-scarring arm—blisters reddening, rotting boughs hemorrhaging, far from on the mend, things swelling where they shouldn’t. And those twitches you have . . .
To celebrate the publication of The Marijuana Chronicles in July, we’re pleased to offer all a set of all four Drug Chronicles titles (Marijuana, Heroin, Speed, and Cocaine) for only $30, plus shipping, while supplies last!
She wondered what his skin felt like. There was little of it to see, wrapped in all black like a Bedouin woman in the desert . . .
For our first date, we decided to drop acid on the Fourth of July, 1998 . . .
I was fine when I got on the road that morning—a little nervous, but I’d taken two Ativans. The pills were supposed to be strong enough to get me on the plane and all the way across the Midwest to LA. Not like last time . . .
I spend most of my time synthesizing chemicals and looking out the door to see if anyone is coming. I am naturally paranoid . . .
After the meal we headed back to the Groucho Club. We were a few drinks in now. We went upstairs and had some cocaine in the restroom . . .
There was a reason I only smoked weed occasionally after college—and it wasn’t just due to that one Hash Bash where I smoked too much and momentarily passed out . . .