Two Shots of NyQuil, One Shot of Jazz.
Sudafed is a hallucinogen, Neo Citran is a buzzkill, and NyQuil is the best high you can get for six bucks. Throw a little John Coltrane into that mix and you’ve got the makings of a trip fantastic.
9:15pm. My head cold takes a turn for the worse. Typical. Just before bedtime. Time to bring out the heavy artillery. It’s one of Neo Citran, NyQuil, or another night spent sleepless. NyQuil beckons because of the stronger warning on the package. Pop. Two tablespoons of the cherry opiate down the hatch.
9:21pm. Cue up Coltrane’s Meditations. Lay back and enjoy the beautiful chaos.
9:47pm. Starting to feel slightly bubbleheaded. Everything is gaining that padded feeling that only over-the-counter dope can produce. Feel it, brutha.
9:49pm. Coltrane’s sax is floating in from the light fixture above my bed. I swear I can see bright colors – acid oranges teary blues Seussian reds Zeppelin pinks – rainbowing from my roof and dancing a hand width away from my nose.
10:05pm. It’s starting to snow now, and what beautiful snow it is. Fluffy white eight-balls poetically turning and emanating from a hole in the brass sax. I feel the flakes prick my skin…and I giggle a hollow chemical giggle.
10:24pm. Wow. Holy wow.
10:43pm. I’m in that tossing and sheet-ripping phase; the phase that directly precedes that delirious NQ sleep that we’re all fond of.
11:01pm. Ah, but not yet says Mr. Coltrane. I somehow gather the cognizance to switch the CD to Coltrane, one of my all time faves. The Himalayas that sax climbs. Man, its like Jesus himself came off the cross and breathed life into that beat up piece of brass.
11:10pm. Fading off to sleep now…feeling very Salvador Dali about the whole thing, my head and body propped up on little tent poles.
11:22pm. Asleep.
6:00am. A solid sleep ended. Wake up feeling hung over. Do my best to shake off the clouds of last night. Wonder if it was all a dream. Check CD player. All good.