That stoned feeling

Tired enough to feel nothing

The news pills had their debut on Friday night. We had a late working day; in fact, I had to leave before all was finished because I was beginning to wilt – it was difficult to think straight.

That was just about 21:30 hours and as I got home I was so exhausted and almost out of it, so at 22:30 hours after affirming to myself that the pills will do me good, work as prescribed for my well-being and that I suffer no ulterior side-effects I popped the 1^st pill and went to bed.

Well, not bed per se, I was at my computer operating machinery – my keyboard – for another 90 minutes before I finally made that 30-centimetre journey to my bed to seek sleep.

I had been informed I would have the feeling of being stoned; I cannot say I felt anything too different apart from some thoughts that appeared to be going out of line which were drawn back into focus but it was a bit of a roller-coaster ride.

Thoughts management

Each thought had to be assessed on the logic of its existence, why I was having the thought and if it was relevant to what situation I was in then – if not, discard and process the next thinking – in one or two cases there were exaggerations of claustrophobia or lines both of which had to be tempered with a sense of proportion – I am not hemmed in and no, a door does not have to be that high.

I slept well and woke up feeling fine, my neighbours were informed of the night and there was the plan to take in some sun but before I made the outing I was back in bed sleeping – it was not till late afternoon that I found myself able to go shopping at the Absolutely British shop in Amstelveen, I agonised about the right metro stop having forgotten my phone but convinced myself eventually that I would get off at the right place, but on returning home, it was bedtime again.

In the meantime, I had already done some productive work on my computer, building a few virtual machines for a number of experiments – I do wonder when I got that done during the sleepless times.

No sureties for sureness

My second night was a bit different, I might have really felt stoned, there was a feeling of delirium and sense of not being in complete control and for me that meant you stayed in bed not walked around the house.

Did I just hear someone ring my bell? Well, at that time, maybe not – but that has happened before, that is before I was ever on these new pills – I rationalised, but not before I went to check to be sure.

To be sure – that seems to be the feeling, whether I am sure of that thought, that action, the feeling, that whatever expression it might be – sure, I am sure of that, if it computes – what a wonder our brains are.

On some majesty’s secret service

Vivid dreams?  I had one, a city-wide black-out, a candle light where I was ensconced until it was raided by North Korean agents who eventually found me but before they had the time to torture me for information I did not have a smart agent got me out of harm’s way.

In our embassy (Do not know which country I was a citizen of), we saw 3 double-agents, well-armed, debriefing a prized asset under implied duress and ready to do harm – we however had access to the central air-conditioning system controls with the security clearance to quarantine areas for oxygen replacement therapy resulting in the delivery of condolences to the agents who had once been exposed to a particular chemical which the asset had never been exposed to.

The smart agent had been on rescue missions like this before if we could access his “Red” files including one where the rogue got chewed up by water closet in a toilet cubicle without neighbouring occupants noticing what was going on – all recorded for the files.

I needed to wake up from all this stuff – I eventually did – what a trip that was.