Love and Other Drugs

Taking no reference from the movie apart from its title, this shall be my one and only attempt to speak about the subject.

"White lips, pale face. Breathing in snowflakes. Burnt lungs, sour taste..."
...Though I never struggled to pay rent, there were long nights, and there were strange men.


Let me begin by stating clearly... This post is about my experience with methamphetamine.

It began with a dabble, 2 years back. Nothing. I didn't feel any different smoking it. I hooked up, and that was it. 1 year ago, I hooked up again. This time, taking a bit more. I felt awake, for a whole night, but not any different, really. I just had to cope with some lost sleep.

Then, 9 months ago, I did it again. Finally... perhaps due to a different batch or formula... I felt it. A rush, quiver through the body. Immediately, I was calmed. I simply stopped for a few seconds to feel. I cannot describe it. Euphoria is not accurate. There is something completely engulfing, that takes your perceptions to new heights, and holds your entire being there. It was a good feeling. In fact, everything felt good. Touch, smell, sounds, and the sight of the men who gave it to me... not entirely attractive men, but men that are willing, and able, and everything wrong about them just.fell.away.
Talking about it just makes me feel like doing it all over again. Shamefully so.

But hey, that's all the good stuff, right? It really was all good, until my first crash. Fatigue, depression, excessive sleep, in short, I turned into a zombie for a few days. Still alive enough to keep up appearances, but the strain of staying awake just to go through the motions was debilitating. After crashing, what seems to be a return to a state of normality is another illusion that would last a few more days. I lose strength, focus, and spend a good amount of time resisting to take a puff.

It gets worse. The things I did when high on meth, I would never do sober. Barebacking, combining drugs, fucking people I don't even like... The remorse doesn't hit me until the next couple of days. People think it's the high that pulls you back. I think it's the crash that pushes instead. To know that this feeling can be kept at bay just for another few days.

I don't think what I've described above is accurate enough. I don't think I really know how to describe the whole experience. Just that it should have never happened.

That being said, I have no qualms on accepting the damage I have done to myself. But I've gone as far as alienating 2 friends in the process. A, who was trying to dissuade a few of us friends from doing this any longer. We were supposed to work together to stop it all but I had decided that the plan was too drastic, so it fell through and A got hurt in the process. B, who is a dear friend of many years, I pushed away because I decided that after what happened with A, disclosure of this nightmare will not benefit anyone. As it turns out, standing my ground did not benefit our friendship either. Both friends no longer communicate with me in any form.

I've always believed the strength of any relationship is only shown in times of trying.... So I guess I'm still that same weakling I've always known. I wish I could muster up some fight in me to make up with both friends but I feel undeserving of their forgiveness because this issue is still not over. I doubt it will be over anytime soon. No doubt, we all keep secrets. Some secrets you keep and nurture with love and it helps you grow....but I suppose this is one I have to keep and let eat me up till the day I die. It has cost me this much. No more.

I cannot blame the drug. But since it's entrance into my life, a lot of emotional wrought has followed. It's no wonder why people choose to hide the truth. "No judgement.... It's ok.... We understand..." These would all hold true... until they don't.

The thought that 3 people, whose lives are so big, wonderful and full of joy can be separated by this one occurrence, is infinitely saddening. It's why I choose solitude. It's why I choose to put up that stupid face with the world. Because the truth simply doesn't work.

It's been about a month. I don't have meth on me anymore. I know it will still forever haunt me. I know I will slip easily because that's who I am. I am afraid. I think I will always be. In this Fear. Hating myself. So hello, third certainty in my life. You and Taxes have never been kind, but maybe with your help, I will learn to embrace this pain, and Death will seem kinder.

Distant and Debilitated...
D.

Devastating Distance

You've seen this before. The chance encounter. The little sparks. The following flames.

O, how they burn you after they leave.

Yet it is of no fault of theirs.

S is, like many others, a young boy of southern charm. I had met him on an occasion. This was a chance occasion, which came unto me upon a random encounter asking me to join a game of badminton. So I ended up signing up for a little 'gay games' styled track and field event cum badminton competition. S was to be paired with me and another friend.

He came to me. Tall, dark and unassumingly handsome. Cliche as it may be, he almost had me at hello. As the games progressed, it seemed to me that we had somewhat of a mutual preference for hard shots. No pun intended. I had delusions of training with him in future but I knew deep down that it was a slim possibility. We lost. Grudgingly so. We could have done a lot better.

The games progressed over 2 days. I hoped to dine with him on Day 1 but was unfortunately relying on someone else for transportation and went our separate ways. I didn't think much of it. Day 2 ended similarly. I felt that we got closer during Day 2, which was when we ran for track and field. Maybe it was the camaraderie of being on the same team, or just me observing that he tended to come close whenever we weren't doing anything. These are the times I hate the social recluse in me the most. We parted ways like most would. A simple goodbye wave. I would miss him, and add him on Facebook. He would accept... and we would continue to communicate. The day was June 2. I went home to wish mummy dearest a happy birthday.

Fast forward almost a month later, we discovered that we're running the in the upcoming Standard Chartered KL Marathon 2013. The event was postponed due to a bad haze. Despite all of this, S still wanted to visit KL to catch up with old friends. I took the chance to invite him to stay with me. He had other plans at first but accepted to stay one night anyhow. I was ecstatic to say the least. Saturday was when we would meet. He had stayed with his colleagues the night before and I was to bring him around town. I learnt that he used to work in PJ. In the shopping mall we met, too. After bringing him to meet a friend, we would continue to yet another shopping mall instead.

We had lunch and ice cream made from liquid nitrogen. I clearly remember us not enjoying the sights so much and not even shopping. But I had enjoyed the company a little too much. We adjourned to meet with the same group we played badminton with before for dessert and dinner, followed by more drinks. I felt so obliged that the group came together. I would have been lost at figuring out what to do next with S.

After filling up ourselves completely, we returned to my home, and watched a movie together. Specifically, The Impossible. He had no love for rom-coms, had watched other blockbusters before and so that was the logical pick left. What followed later would be the crux of my falling for him.

....to be dwelled upon in the next post.

Baiting and Biting

A bug bit, and here I am.

There's not gonna be excuses for me not being around. I have none. This and all of these have been and shall be, products of a whim. A warning to those who know me. This time it's about me, and it's gonna be graphic.

Not so long ago, in a steam room not so far away at the fitness club I go to, I felt an exuberance of friskiness. It was one of those love-hate moments you get with yourself, where wave after wave of internal heat courses through your veins, and in my case, one of the larger ones down there. I might have let it pass as usual, but the pulses wouldn't stop. As fate would have it, I was alone in the steam room for all of 5 minutes. The crowd outside was mostly dressing up as it was a weekday. I had time to spare, and for all of 5 minutes I was determined to release the tension building down below with moistened hands.

Lo and behold, the steam room door slowly opens. I calmly hid my impatience under a bunched towel, because a well folded towel just doesn't sit well with me. A guy walks in. 30s, a little shorter and leaner than me, and glistening with sweat. Great. Divine intervention to tame the beast, I thought. I thought wrong.

It began subtly, one glance at me, one glance away. One glance again before his eyes sink a little lower to where it matters, and his hands a little closer to his inner thighs, where matters rose quickly. I am no stranger to the torrent of signals constantly streaming through the walls of the men's locker room, but I have also yet to take part in it, until today. I make eye contact, smirk, nod, and leave. A quick hop out and a flash of a shower later, I'm in the sauna, and there he was. His position strategic, his towel loosened, and his tension matching mine.

I sat to his right where he can reach me, but far enough to be out of sight. He has a view of oncoming traffic, but the rest of him is well hidden from public sight. The both of us removed our towels and kept our hands to ourselves at first. Shy, perhaps? The irony. He initiated. The both of us went at it like little kids having the time of their lives with their first experience of a thrilling video game, only with a larger joystick. Each stroke getting closer and closer to the highscore. Finally, without warning, he let go of me, stood up, faced me, aimed, and shot. He took a quick glance outside before sitting down to play with me. I appreciated the helping hand, very much.

I'll spare the boring details of cleaning up but rest assured, we both started our day right.


Dangerously Detailed,

D.

Kevin Wei

I'm having the flu. It's pretty bad. I can't go to the gym. Or go out with friends..
But I sure as hell can post my last obsession that got me crazy downloading over the internet.

This is Kevin Wei. Taiwanese, an apparent fellow PLU, seemingly attached, appeared in a talk show once. I saw his profile while Facebook surfing (yes it's a thing to do) and voila! He loves taking pictures of himself (thank goodness cuz he's so bloody handsome and he knows it too).

Enjoy, my dear viewers.

Oh wait, did I mention, he plays the guitar? :)

What's hotter than a hot guy? A hot guitarist!! Damn I'd sooooo be a groupie and go backstage just to gargle his balls or something. I feel like such a slut. A slut with the flu. Ugh.

He plays with a famout DJ, in Taiwan, apparently. DJ F*Daniel. I wonder how one pronounces that name.

Anyways, enjoy a few more choice pics. I have stored many, MANY more of him. But they're of him clothed, guess you wouldn't be interested in those eh?

KevinWei the shredder!

Oh how he melts me with the Ukulele.

So, what else do we have in common apart from the love for hot pictures of him in the naked flesh? Bands. Rock bands. Like, we're talking Avenged Sevenfold and Green Day and Muse kinda stuff. I'm smitten.

Why~ why do you have to be attached~

Devastated,

D.