I watch Steve-o videos on YouTube. I admire his recovery and the levity he has about it. After all he is a fellow inhalant addict. I don’t really think it matters that he was rich enough to use nitrous crackers and I was stealing air duster from cvs, it’s all bad.
I have heard him talk about breaking down the barriers of parallel dimensions, and other really vivid hallucinations. I could get with all that because really tripped out shit has happened to me inside an inhalant high.
The big logistical issue with inhalant use is the extremely short duration of the intoxication, how much you want to just stay in that place, and once you leave it you NEED to go back. There are a whole host of other glaring drawbacks, but I’ve covered all of those to death. I’ve had experiences where time just stretches out for what feels like hours when it was really well under 5 minutes. This has happened to me on DMT and its research chemical analogs. Maybe time isn’t even real, I wouldn’t take a stab at a concept like that, it’s way beyond my depth.
Anyway, the last time this happened to me was in late may, I was huffing duster in Queens. All of the sudden I was in the presence of everyone I love and miss, I couldn’t see them, I could only feel that they were there… I don’t know how else to describe it. It was family members, and friends and former lovers all together. I was ever so comforted for what felt like hours until I warped out and was by myself laid out on a sidewalk bleeding from a scrape on the forehead. Someone had called 911, as they often did. I didn’t want to go to the hospital (I never wanted to go to the hospital) I wanted to go back to being surrounded by all the people I haven’t seen in years. That’s a real dilemma with all drugs… you can’t stay in those places that feel so amazing and you likely can never return again. It didn’t stop me from going to severely extreme lengths to try.
I would walk into Walgreens, go behind the counter, grab 2 cans of dust off and bolt out the door. I was giving zero fucks, and doing whatever it took to attempt to go anywhere else mentally and feel anything else emotionally. There were rite aid and cvs employees who would trip me and even body slam me. I don’t know why anyone would take a job like that so seriously and personally but some of them did. How did they know I wasn’t armed or something? Shit, I wouldn’t get stabbed for CVS’s 11$ can of computer cleaner, but that’s just me.
This past summer, duster didn’t even get me high, it just knocked me out and freeze burned my skin. There was no good reason to do it, but I was obsessively looking for more cans to steal and inhale. That’s a real motherfucker when you don’t even get the desired effect, yet you can’t stop shooting for it and getting really damaged in the pursuit.
If these hallucinations sound cool, you’re totally missing the point. Something pleasant might happen one In in a thousand times and it’s not at all worth the horror of the other 999 times. It’s not worth the blood, guts, burns, malnutrition, mental deterioration and loneliness.
