punishment for ego ·
8 July 04

Puking is like a stonage capital crime. It would be seen as a punishment from God for meddling with Witch craft. A contagious poisonous act that will affect anyone comes in close proximity. You are marked, you are the “puker”.

When you puke, it comes to you in messages. Perhaps you feel warmer, more fidgety, slower, disorientated but you’re never sure. Not until you feel the world start to dance in front of you to music in your head, and then you feel the acid rise up our throat as you look for a place to discharge, it plays and then explodes into a gush. “There’s that chicken I had when I was seven” spoken after a yellow stripey lump forces its way out of your nose.

Your eyes water as your stomach compresses, the men pull the ropes back inwards at either end and squeeze until they force out the pushers who hold up the train. They are electrified out of the zone. Leave, and they exit the way they came, throught he muddy swamps of your stomach, climbing the slithery vines up your throat, trekking the desert that is your tongue and nasal passage. There is no lining up, like pirates with treasure they blast out, breaking the fabric of space and playing with time randomly and momentarily.

The music was making me spin, I was feeling screwed. I cleaned the bucket, and chucked the bag. I went back up and sat back at my seat, tired, but a little more awake.

I had smoked too much too quick. It was quite interesting, as I don’t know why I did this. I must have waited about 10 minutes after the first finished before sparking another. Normally I give myself a while, after a first smoke, I chill out munch and watch something. I couldn’t munch because there was no food, or lack of. Perhaps this was where I made my mistake.

Suffice to say, I was ok after everything, much to the amusement of the others.

“He puked man!”
“Did he?”
“Yeah, I was sleeping, then I heard him going bleurgh’ or something and I saw his body bending over”
“Did you see him puke?”
“No, not until I looked over further. I was scared man. I thought he was wanking or something, cuz I just saw his body shaking in the chair, so I couldn’t tell. Plus I was still a bit high.”
“I wasn’t fucking wanking you twat, how could you think I was wanking?”
“Well how the fuck did I know?! I couldn’t see!”

We laughed, it was amusing that he even thought that. We couldn’t guess how scared he might have been to catch a friend wanking while he’s sleeping. I think we mometarily crapped our own pants. It’s quite a frightening thought, and not something I would want to be in the presence of. Scary.

So, early morning, we left to head home. He dropped me off at my place, and we decided to do this again next week. That was the plan, but it didn’t happen. I gave him Slackers as he was determined to watch it and understand it. I left him to it, and headed to my room, brushing my teeth and washing my gob with mouth wash. I showered, and went to bed. It was an interesting night.