2005-01-14 - 3:01 a.m.
there is no reason to read this

FUN WITH METH!!!

three in the morning and there's a thin powdery film on the desk space in front of my keyboard. i like to chop it up 'til it assumes the consistency of powdered sugar. some, in the interest of expediency, smash it with a credit card: a couple scrapes, a couple clicks, roll up something and SNNNNNFT, it's done. not me. first i pour everything out (usually smack-dab on my desk, but sometimes i use a mirror). then i separate all the big shards from the bulk and set them aside; they won't be used until all the rest is gone. saving the best for last and all that. my preferred chopping implement is a few sections broken off from a utility knife. they're easier to get than razorblades. so i begin my work by scraping all the shit on the desk into one neat pile. and then, carefully, almost ridiculously carefully, i start chopping, usually from nearest me outward (awk., -10 pts.). crunch. crunch. crunch. sometimes, when i'm not paying enough attention, i'll hit a shard and cleave it against the grain, which leads to both halves of said shard skittering off in opposite directions, sometimes never to be seen again. by the way, in the middle of writing the last sentence--right after "cleave"--i started puking for absolutely no reason. on the floor. i managed to make it to the trash can before i started hurling again, and oh, hurl again i did. oh yes. much with the hurling again. so that's disgusting and a bit worrisome. anyway, about the skittering shards: it would be a great name for a band, but it's not a good situation in real life. that's the reason why i'm so careful, so vigilent. because sometimes that kind of thing happens and you lose shit and that's when you start crying. but if that doesn't happen, i'm happy, and my chopping is a fun adventure. it's something i can do for hours and hours (provided i've already had a bit, of course). chop chop chop chop... i get all the way through the pile, which by now is a white, glittery pancake, and then i regroup. form it into a pile again, and this time chop a different way: left to right, maybe. chop chop chop chop. regroup again, and this time do it diagonally, and then maybe top to bottom, or bottom to top again like the first time. usually by the sixth go-round i get bored and decide to play some games. sometimes i enjoy trying to make as many lines as i can out of the quantity i've got. it's a fun game. often i can make twenty teeny lines, each a quarter bump. they all have to be exactly equal in length and breadth and height (this last being rather difficult to gauge). so i'll play the tiny lines game, and eventually--it never fucking fails--i'll notice a shard that somehow managed throughout the original chopping frenzy to elude the blade and now sits smirking in a sparkly white nest. ha! i've got you now. everybody regroup, back in the pile, now. and i set upon the usurper with a vengenance. even after i'm visually convinced that i've completely homogenized the whole supply (apart from the big shards i set aside earlier), i'm now siezed with the need--the need--to rechop everything. so, from the beginning, five six seven eight: chop chop chop chop, regroup, chop chop chop chop, regroup, chop chop chop chop, etc. until i get bored. it's at about this time in the proceedings that i realize i could really use a boost at this point, so i'll break off the tiniest bit, barely a bump, and i'll usher it a safe distance from the rest of the shit, and i'll rechop it (just in case!), scrape it into some semblence of a line--a teeny, wee line, a maintenence line, the kind of line that ensures that a twenty sack'll keep me going for at least three days--and SNNNNNRK it up. delightful. now is the perfect opportunity to clean the blade, as i have just racked a line. i run my index finger up one side of the blade and down the other side. if i'm lucky there's a veritable bump right there on the tip of my finger, and that, of course, goes the way of the line. then, rejuvenated, i turn back to the rest of the shit. it looks boring now because it's all chopped and ready to go. so i find some kind of receptacle--i don't want to use the original sack because that's where the big shards are and they're not cool unless they're clean--and stash the powder. then i, having no willpower to speak of, pour the rest of the contents onto the desk, and begin again, this time more carefully, because if i fuck up, i could lose a huge amount of shit. so i treat each rock as an individual entity. i examine it, i find its grain, and then i lay the edge of the blade on it and begin to apply gentle pressure. if all goes right, the shard splits in two and nothing skitters into the void. after that it's gravy. it's strange, but once a shard's been cleaved, it's no trouble halving the halves, and then halving the quarters, and so on. no trouble at all. so i get though each of the rocks and i have a giant(-ish) pile of shiny goodness. then i set about atomizing it the same way i did before: chop chop chop chop, regroup, etc. when i'm satisfied with the results, i combine the two piles, start playing the tiny lines game, and by the time i look up again, two or three hours have passed and what was once a mass of clear, glassy shards is now a small pile of supremely insufflatable, ultra-fine powder. the reason i do this is not only because i'm a crazy tweaker with too much time on her hands, but also because the finer the powder, the more efficient its absorption. ZING!

ooh, you touch my tra-la-la... mmm, my ding-ding-dong