Monday, July 25, 2005

This is the title.

I smoked hash(sp?) last night for the first time.

1st hit. I coughed my lungs out, followed by my liver and kidneys. 2 seconds later, my throat burst into flame.

2nd hit. I'm gone.

3rd hit. Something doesn't feel right.

30 minutes later, I was on my bed, crying. My heartbeats reached 649 pulse a minute. My feet tingles. My palms sweat. I see a light.

I'm going to die right now.

I passed out.

Hash = nasty little fucker.

Don't do it.

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Friday, December twenty third, two thousand five will be a special day. At one ten in the morning, I'll be on a plane.

Destination: home*.

* Assuming the plane is not hijacked by kamikaze bastards.