“You really have to work hard to get hooked on smoking opium. The Victorian-era form of the drug, known as chandu, is rare, and the people who know how to use it aren’t exactly forthcoming. But leave it to an obsessive antiques collector to figure out how to get to addicted to a 19th-century drug.”
It is one of those times where I am feeling particularly put together. Extremely in control. Seamless. Semi-perfect. On the level I wish to be.
I find when I am extremely busy, this tends to be the case. When I am social but not overly so. When my mind is too full of work to be void of emotion. When there exists a logical, linear task. That environment is productive. No one demands things of me that are intangible. I can perform. I can excel. I can be admired.
It is refreshing to be admired and praised for surface-level things. To be told my product is exceptional. To be told I am handsome. To be lusted for. To be judged by my value in the manner I judge others to be valuable.
It is all just a cycle and we’re peaking again. At the highest height. Doing so well.
A friend of mine invited me to drop acid with him this weekend and since my project is over and my fiancee is with her family and we haven’t fucked in three days and won’t until Monday I need something to celebrate my success at work and something to take off the edge of this sexual tension or it’s all I’ll think about because I am obsessed and the longer its been the more I find myself looking at a particularly well-dressed man and picturing him blindfolded with that smart striped silk tie and gagged with that leather belt and sprawled across the bed of an amtrak sleeper car when we share it to travel but I won’t proposition him even if he admires me even if he wants it and I’m in the best state of mind possible for this otherwise speaking. My friend and I have different tastes in drugs but he extends the offer and I still appreciate that.
I am concerned only about control. And self-reflection. Introspection. What will I see? I want to know but it’s the last frontier and perhaps I’ll hate it. In fact I think I will.