Smacked Without You. Please Smack Me Back

i dunno why...maybe curiosity... morbid fascination i guess...
i just realised that i've been sitting in this room for 6 n a half hours smacked out
of my fuckin skull...wish u were here? anticipating...i feel like everythings melting...
i can actually trace the rush in my head all the way back to my wrist..can you feel?...
those jagged little edges on the ceiling look like fuckin icicles, are they gonna fall off?
why is my body so still? why cant my eyes stop moving? the cigarette's been burning for
ten minutes...did i take a drag?...or wait...i think its a joint...am i stoned...vegetated?
maybe paranoid...surely diluded...hehe...fish out of water?...sinking...drowning?...
at least falling..through this echoe of fucking sounds that keep mashing in my muthafukin ears
..my head's like a fuckin turntable..my toungue the needle...people records...my minds a club...
movements are beats...life is music...one big, long, fucking massive segment on an eternal radio station..a giant bitch of an occurence that keeps mixing and mixing...fuckin mixing...blending colours with noises..hearing the light and seeing the music...what the fuck did they put in this shit? extremely woozy..fading out..too much wishful thinking...oops its might've slipped, the
whole fucking thought process..down the drain..flushed..like a lonely peice of shit..
soothingly disturbed...help me?

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Written by my SPECIAL Friend