I’ve been quietly ranting to myself for a while that any drug that came out after approximately 1980ish is clearly the work of Satan. Specifically bath salts/k2.
Remember when we were kids and trippy drugs were like tubing down the slow-moving river of your mind on a sun-lit Sunday?
These drugs are more being blind-folded, chained up and dragged from a car in one of the questionable neighborhoods of your mind.
Bath salts: “Um, thanks for the contribution, brain, I can see how there’s similiarities between the person I’m talking to and someone that I haven’t seen in five years, that, additionally, I kind of hate. You seem to keep telling me that they’re the same person, though, or at least that they’re strongly connected..You are really not helping me behave in a normal manner.”
k2: “Goddamnit, why do suddenly I think everyone can read my thoughts? Potatoes. Wait, why I am I thinking about potatoes? I KNOW. THAT GUY THAT JUST SUSPICIOUSLY SNIFFED OVER THERE PUT THIS THOUGHT IN MY HEAD BECAUSE HE’S TRYING TO DESTROY ME. Hey, person standing next to me that I’m having a telepathic conversation with, I’m totally right about that shady sniffling fucker over there, aren’t I? At least we’re not him…Christ, what’s wrong with him. Did I pay my taxes?”
And while all that is going on in your head on k2, you’re laughing inappropriately to yourself about how inane the whole thing is, but you can’t stop it/mitigate it in anyway.
You are way too overstimulated to even get things to slow down long enough to explain things to yourself. You know, stop acting weird, you’re the only person in your brain, thankfully, and that stranger who isn’t acknowledging you in any way isn’t plotting your death.
Ugh. Why did I put this crap in my body.