"What's the worst that could happen?" That's what I said before I swallowed the small pill.
It was my second year at university and I had decided to be more adventurous. My first year I mostly hung around my dorm, played video games, watched porn, and neglected my homework. But this was college, sophomore year was going to be different. I figured If I wasn't going to do my homework I may as well experience parties, drugs, and girls.
So I set out on my quest. I went to parties and gatherings, made some friends, smoked some weed, drank a lot, did some coke, adderall, went to a music festival, did some mushrooms. Honestly, it was an amazing start to a new chapter of my life. The mushrooms made me want to try acid, so I did. It wasn't the best setting my first time but it opened my mind a bit, made me wonder about things that had never even occurred to me previously. I became obsessed with opening my mind as wide as possible. I did a lot more acid and a lot more mushrooms until a friend recommended DMT.
DMT wasn't exactly what I had hoped. I was ready for some kind of mind blowing revelation, but what I got was this dark feeling that I had glimpsed something I shouldn't have, like being privy to the inner workings of the universe somehow made it all less beautiful and mysterious. It might sound trite, but there's a reason you don't get to see behind the curtain at your favorite play.
Around this time a few of my friends were showing signs of serious addiction to some of the harder drugs I'd refused to experiment with, so I took a break from all that started focusing on girls. It didn't take long to realize I had exactly zero game. Thinking back on it, I think I was just too honest. I told girls exactly how I felt, for better or worse. The girls I liked, I scared away by professing my love to them. The girls I wasn't sure about took offense when I told them.
So, I slowly crawled back into my cave. Late nights in a dark room, except this time I knew what I was missing out on. I had this sense of loneliness that wasn't present before. My old favorite games that were so engaging before, now felt hollow and meaningless. I did even less homework, shut myself in my dorm and fell down the well of depression.
My grades started to suffer and I was worried I would be kicked out of university at the end of the semester. I tried to rally a few times but I just couldn't bring myself to give a shit. I started having thoughts that I would be just another burnout, that I'd go back home without a degree and have to scrape by on minimum wage jobs.
It was at this low point that my roommate made one of his infrequent visits to our dorm. His name was Tyler and he had a girlfriend that lived off campus, so he stayed there most days and nights, lucky bastard. He was kind of a bro but I liked him, he had good energy and reminded me of the golden retriever I had when I was a kid.
"Sup buddy?" Tyler said as he walked into the muggy dorm.
"Mmm," I said, and pulled the blankets over my head. He was interrupting my mid morning nap, which was usually how I spent my time between my morning nap and my afternoon nap.
