I was at "The Hole" (I've mentioned it in other write-ups, but I'll give a summary: It's a friend of mine's house - and it literally is a hole) last weekend, after realizing that the pub was too boring. There are some 6 people there.

So we smoke up - no big deal, I've done that before. Now, I'm a poor decision-maker when I'm stoned. Especially when I'm stoned.

Hey, you tried a bomb before?

What does he mean, I wonder. I don't know all the druggie slang. What is a bomb?

Like, a piece of toilet paper with amphetamine in it - an excellent rush

I sit around and think about it for a while. The fumes from the chillum makes rings in front me. Okay, I'll try one - I'm not gonna pay, though. (I guess this is my own feeble argument that it's not really abuse if you don't pay for it).

Okay, lemme fix one for ya

I don't feel a thing. At all.

I arrive back at the pub and then my conscience hits me. Back in the day, I punched him for doing the exact same thing. I feel horrible. Dude, I fucked up, please punch me.

What, what did you do?

You know what I did.


That night, I learned that drugs equal feeling guilty.

I can still feel where he hit me. Which is a good thing.