Citation: Psychicyouth. "Pushing Off into a Devilish Dimension: An Experience with Cocaine (exp32373)". Erowid.org. Aug 28, 2006. erowid.org/exp/32373
I had my first experience with injecting cocaine when I was 18. It was the year I didn't comb my hair at all and had white dreads that smelled of tea tree oil. I'd been thinking about the drug awhile as I'd been reading the works of William Burroughs, especially, 'junky.' I was intrigued as I have always been very open-minded. I had just started college at a Big Ten University in the middle west and was living in a one bedroom apartment in a historic house.
My upstairs neighboor invited me up for a smoke one afternoon and we got to talking about cocaine. He said he had a Mexican friend who he got weed from who could also get really good coke. I was interested. I told my best friend and we decided to go in on an 8 ball. It was $200. A bit on the high side but worth it for really good stuff. We gave our money to my neighbour on a Thursday and were told that the stuff would be to us by Friday. Friday morning I went across the street to a convenient store and purchased razor blades (I thought I'd be snorting it and would need this sort of paraphernalia.) Friday night my friend came over and we waited for the stuff to come. It never did. My neighbor kept telling us that his friend could be trusted.
The next morning my neighbor came down and told me that the stuff was in town but that we'd have to go pick it up. I drove across town with Patrick, my neighbor, and went to the house where the shit was. We went into the Mexicanís room and he was sitting on his bed in his underwear with a needle in his arm. I got an incredible rush of adreneline watching him. I was so intrigued. I had to try it. Patrick got my stuff that Noah and I had paid for and a couple of fresh needles and we took off. We got to my place and I asked Patrick to fix me up a shot. He gave me a relatively small one, but since it was my first time I got an incredible rush. My ears began ringing and I could hear the cars on the street with schizophrenic clarity.
My eyesight seemed to improve. I could clearly see the display on my alarm clock across the room without glasses. I told Patrick that I wanted to get 100 more syringes. It seemed to be the most intense rush I can feel in this world. I'm 28 now. I've been using on and off for about 10 years. I love everything about the ritual of shooting cocaine. I have been a daily user for about a year now. I only get about a half gram a day. I get a great deal from some Mexicans. I love to negotiate drug deals in another language.
A half gram is enough for two decent size shots. After I get home from work I go up to my bathroom, close the door, and turn on the fan. I open a new syringe and put the wrapper in the toilet. I use the cap of a large lip balm tube to put the coke in. I put half the bag in the cap and then pull 45 units of water from a glass of filtered water. I push the water into the cap and then gently shake it from side to side. It turns milky for a few seconds then gets clear. Good coke should totally dissolve in water. If there is something left in the bottom, it is cut from unpure coke.
The shit I get dissolves completely. Then I stick the needle into the cap and pull back on the plunger. Sometimes I use a small amount from a q tip as a filter, but most of the times I don't. When the solution has been pulled into the syringe, the total volume is usually around 55-60 units. I usually shoot with my left hand into my right arm. I pump up the vein a bit by making a few quick fists. I am already pretty excited and the environmental ques are getting me high even though I haven't injected the drug yet. I line up the needle with the vein and stick it in at about a 30 degree angle. I PULL back on the plunger and see the blood shoot up into the syringe. Then I push the solution in and then slowly withdraw the needle. There's usually a spot of blood that gets on my sleeve. I like to wash the syringe with water after use even though I don't reuse them.
While I'm washing it that's when it hits me. It feels like I've broken into another dimension. I hear voices and see light move by the crack in the door. I hear footsteps on the porch. I put my stuff away then read the newspaper. The stories are so different. It's like I'm reading about a different world. I turn the TV on. Various shows come on and it seems that I am hearing dialogue that is not from the appropriate show. I feel extremely paranoid, like there are eyes peeking through every window. I am scared, but I like it somehow. I like the escape it gives me from this world, but this ritual has gotten to be too habitual. I am trying to stop. There are a lot more things in this world to experience. I have spent enough time on this subject. I need to find a new dimension.
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