Holy Bhaang > Wholly Pooped > Holi $***
Sozzled on the fateful day plus two aftermath days is by and far an understatement. The initial grip was an all pervading calm and reclined pace in everything and everybody around. Reaction time was plunge diving and eyeballs floated mid-air. It wasnt long before I experienced birth of the inner genii by the minute.
That handful cerebrum learnt to somersault in the skull. Each one somersault released laughter bubbles that frothed at the throat, gurgled in the mouth and let out bubbles that went up, up and away. This lasted for as long as I was awake. The conscious fought to be sane ( as if I am on normal days) but the daffy duck in me insisted on quacking.
Gathered my bits and pieces from all over the party host's living space and dragged 'em as far as I could. Plopped on something that felt firm but amazingly familiar...it was the bed. The sheets smelt of hunger. On saner thoughts now, I had a growing appetite to eat all I could but the knees told me to shut up and pass out. Eyeballs insisted on playing billiards but the limbs just didnt consent to be the cue.
Hallucination pursued me in close quarters and I fought to disbelieve. Woke up on a graveyard shift and gobbled food like they capture hunger in African countries. Squiggles abound as Alex saw 'em turn to steak.
Two dawns later I decided to chronicle it as a trip to Hell's flea market.
Cheap thrills aint worth the effort...much more on the 'bummer' scale though.