Dr. Pepper or How I Learned to Fuck My Sleeping Patterns in the Ass
I'm writing a paper on Hunter S. Thompson's Hell's Angels. I'm watching a movie on the hippy movement. I'm learning a lot of stuff about culture, counter-culture, pop culture, and of course...drugs. Mainly, LSD. I have never wanted to drop acid so bad in my life before. Actually, I'm fairly certain I never have before. Some point today I realized who my favorite authors were. Brett Easton Ellis, Chuck Palahniuk, Hunter S. Thompson, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. I'm not going to explain the theme connecting the first three. If you can't research it and figure it out or if you don't know it already then you're not my target audience. How ever, F. Scott Fitzgerald fits in (mildly) by being Hunter S. Thompson's favorite author and inspiration. I also realized that an iconic image of myself that I have always wanted to have was that of a cigar/cigarette hanging loosely from my lips with aviators covering half of my face. I realize that most of my favorite characters in comic books, movies, novels, television are the most depraved and twisted anti-heroes imaginable. I realize that words that draw me to a news article are words like chaos, wreckage, suicide, destruction, death, anything really miserable. I realize that I became a history major because I wanted to study chaos and how the world formed around it. I focused on military so that I could learn what it took for humanity to widdle itself down to it's most primal form and then climb the ladder of evolution back up again. I realize Alice in Wonderland became my manuel for living because the idea of falling down a rabbit hole and getting lost in mayhem and colors was also my most honest dream. There is really no excuse as to why I haven't done acid! I mean, I've experimented with drugs. Not nearly enough to get merit badges from drug lords or earn kicks in the cunt from D.A.R.E. brainwashees. I suppose it's just my bad luck that LSD wasn't available to me then, or good luck according to who you are that's reading this. Listen, I'm not goign to take any. Not now. Maybe when I retire from a career, or maybe when finaly I've made a career or writing. I'll take it when it couldn't hurt me. Not now when I need braincells to at least do well in some of my classes. But today, today I'm going to do things a little different. I've already drank half a case of Dr. Pepper and I plan to have some more. You see, tonight I have to finish my paper. And then tomorrow I have to turn it in. Then Friday I have to take an Anthro test. And then Friday night I have filming for that zombie movie that I got into. Then Saturday I have that too. Fine except the filming is from 6pm - 6am. God in Heaven. Time to rape my sleeping patterns. So here it comes, I OD on caffeine, I don't sleep tonight. I trip my way (naturally!) through Hellinistic Greek and Rome, work, turn in my paper, have coffee, have dinner, sign up to write for the school newspaper (for some fucked up reason), go to the College Democrats meeting, and then...crash. Sleep for a few hours, wake up at three (AM that is, I'm always doing hardcore things like that), study (cram), take a test, crash untill filming. With that and fucktons of caffeine I hope to turn myself into an utterly nocturnal ape. Acid would be a lot of help right now. But that's okay, I have Dr. Pepper.