Sunday, March 15, 2009

The Nitemare Before Easter

It is hard to imagine how a concrete box full of people all kinds of fucked up on strange chemicals and music so loud you can feel your teeth blistering could be boring, but somehow FORCEWA manages it.

Clearly these people get something form their drugs I don't, because despite my best efforts (I personally was all fucked up on a bunch of mephedrone, glaucine, 1,3-DMAA and magic mushrooms) I just couldn't feel the vibe. There was no PLUR - There was just "Look at me, I'm a better dancer then you, I'm more fucked up then you, my girlfriend is a bigger slut then your girlfriend" ad nauseum

And nauseate it did, I spent a few minutes in the portaloos re-experiencing a double quarter pounder, which was potentially the most interesting part of the night.

i must say though, the one thing I expected to be the worst suprised me - I had assumed the lines for the 'loos would stretch all the way back to the gate, but in fact, they were suprisingly short. Guess everyone else just handles their shit better then I do -wry grin-

it's always good, though, to get those brief moments of chemically-induced humanity. First-time drug users dropping a killer pill and spending the night hugging their close friends, proclaiming total and unconditional love for the world and asking why they can't feel their legs anymore. Old-school DJs getting the crowd to eat out of their hand and MAKE SOME NOISE FOR THE XANDERRRRRRRRR!

it was a fun night, but given that I spend over $200 on drugs, taxi, food, entry and drink, and that I wouldn't usually even spend that much on a 48 hour doof which wis MUCH more enjoyable and spiritually fulfilling... I can't say I could justify doing it again. I probably will at some point, with longer-lasting chems, and I'll stick around for the whole night (I bailed at about 3am because I was coming down hard and I had work the next day anyway) and it might get better...

But I doubt it.

2 comments:

Pandemonium_of_the_bete_noire said...

I agree with you on the most part, it was a bit of a 'look at how much uv reactant fluid and tutu skirts we can fit into a car park and then saturate them all in egotistical red bull and feet that couldn't follow a beat if they tried' ... but I did get some sense of unity from it all...

OTher than being completely and utterly amused by my fellow central cultists who were 'in their element' -- the people that I didn't know were really nice to me, much nicer than some of the people I've met in the doof scene.

I think that as long as you excrete god like excellence from your pours and act like you're the shit, people will simply assume so and worship you anyway, which is the vibe that I got from most of the chicks that looked at me... (unless they knew me ofcourse and in which case they just laughed at me because of how not-me I looked)

I couldn't handle the anti-escapism though, which had me cowering in a corner behind the speakers simply to escape the ear shattering bass for an hour or so...

I'd do it again, but not for a while...

The Architect said...

she told me you were going. i told her not to tell lies. Yet here we are.
sounds like you were tripping at a prodigous frequency. clearly it was out of sync with the junk they were playing.
I'd almost say it was a waste of hallucinogens, listening to Gayba with a bunch of people dressed as garbage men, but i can see it as a worthy social/personal experiment.