Citation: Tryptamine. "Back on the Train: An Experience with Heroin (exp24151)". Erowid.org. Jun 2, 2003. erowid.org/exp/24151
||(powder / crystals)
Ten weeks...this long I'd been free of heroin and happy about it. Fast forward to two weeks ago and I'm hanging out with a friend, V. V suggested to me that we purchase a 15 dollar bag (about .1 grams) and we do so. This report is nothing special, simply about my most recent encounter. So on and off til yesterday we spend our days purchasing bags and sniffing ourselves into a lovely relaxed state.
It's me, V, and another close friend, E. We were relaxing at V's house as usual. Our normal connect (D, one of many) wasn't responding so after going through about 4 not-so-reliable ones, we found 'S'. Shortly after, we hopped in the Mexican cab and we were on our way. Listening to both the radio, and numerous loud Mexican arguments over the CB, we sat tapping our fingers awaiting our arrival to the meeting point. Having sacrificed a bit of cash on the cab ride there, we settled for two bags. Each of us receiving about 2/3.
After walking around for a little while, looking extremely obvious trying to find a suitable stairway to sniff in, we found sanctuary in a quiet little apartment building. An odd first, the bag's stamps were 'WATER BOY', usually being skull or empire. We found a flat surface, and cut up the bags. After V complaining that due to tolerance not even a whole bag would affect him, I let him take a very tiny bit off my line. V, E and I do our lines and make the walk to the train. The heroin hitting me and E somewhere in the middle of the trip. Feeling incredible, we walked, having pointless two word discussions between periods of silence.
We picked a spot conveniently located by the car doors in case we felt the need to vomit from the bumpy ride. We nodded in and out of consciousness. Bits of melodic trance music flowing into my ears. It was a beautiful feeling. Sometime later we are awakened by the loud, penetrating sounds of a Mexican train band. Screaming and beating their guitars as if they owed them money. I made some doped up gestures and faces at E and he nodded back acknowledging that the music was annoying and nauseating him as well. Shortly after they left and soon our ride was over. We exited the train.
Walking from the train station to meet our friends, we discussed how we felt and unsuccessfully attempted to gather funds to buy some marijuana. At the corner where we were with friends, we sat speechless. Only moving if it was to get a cigarette. The sight of food made us nauseous, and soon it was time to walk up the block and vomit. Which felt good, refreshing and clean. Friends stared at us, knowing well what we had done but not mentioning it for fear of an awkward moment I suppose.
As usual, the police came by. Nothing serious. I happen to be good friends with the officers that roll by everyday. I nodded like I was paying attention to the things he said. Keeping the vomit down and my eyelids up was a difficult task. So I stood, pondering the consequences of throwing up on a police officer, until they left. About an hour later, we all left and went home to sleep.
The overall experience of heroin is a beautiful one. Warmth, sedation, euphoria... but overall it is plain nothingness. I become content to do nothing but sit and stare at my wall. Until trying it, I never really understood what the hype was about. But in no way am I encouraging ANYONE to try heroin. It is very addictive and I doubt I'll be able to get clean again. If you've got the ability to use heroin on and off without addiction or withdrawl, then you're lucky. My advice to those who know they've got addictive personalities, is NOT to try heroin.
Be careful kids.
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