Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves,
the tides and gravity, we shall harness the energy
of love, and then, for the second time in the
history of the world, man will discover fire.
– Teilhard de Chardin
My shooting buddy Richard expertly speared my flesh. After a well-practiced ballet of pulling the plunger back and loosening the rubber hose around my upper arm, blood spurted up into the solution of water and pure crystal methedrine. Then, with a gentle push on the plunger, Richard flushed the mix of blood and drugs into my vein.
As the rush built I began to gasp, knowing I had only seconds to lurch into a standing position and stumble into my room. I fell onto the unmade bed, indifferent to the peeling wallpaper and a grimy window that framed the ruined yard. I noticed my unattended cigarette burning in the ashtray, smoke curling lazily into the thick air. As much as I wanted a drag, I couldn’t muster the strength to reach for it.
As the speed pulsed through my veins, my vision narrowed as if I had slipped into a tunnel. My heart thundered in my ears, easily beating 200 times a minute, and every cell in my body began screaming in rough ecstasy.
A calm, gentle voice spoke into the chaos of my senses. “So, did you get enough this time?” I feebly craned my neck to see who was speaking, but I was alone. Then I realized that this must be the same inner voice who had been speaking more and more lately, especially when I was peaking on LSD or over-amped on meth.