Dweller in Oblivion

Smoking pot posed no problem whatsoever — he’d catch a mild buzz and enjoy a couple hours of lighthearted fun. Marijuana edibles were a different matter altogether. For him the effect was akin to a full-blown psychedelic trip, with all the attendant mental pyrotechnics. Offered a large and highly potent pot brownie at a very reasonable price, he later came to regret the purchase. Suffice to say it was a wholly unpleasant experience — terrifying visions of the destruction of the universe mostly, along with sinister satanic demons with telepathic mind-control abilities beaming their malevolent death energies directly into his skull. “Maybe steer clear of the edibles from now on,” a friend advised him as he lay writhing facedown on the floor of his apartment in obvious psychic agony. “Clearly that shit is fucking with your head.” Under attack at that moment by hideous hologram-like mutant corpse creatures hell-bent on tearing his soul from his body, he was in no position to disagree.

Recreational Psychosis | Fiada Fey