Diary of a Drug Fiend

28 The Diary of a Drug Fiend I was seized with an absolute revulsion against the whole of my surroundings. I whispered like a man in furious haste who must get something vital done before he dies, some words to the effect that I couldn’t “stick this beastly place any longer—”’ “ Let’s get some air.” She answered neither yes nor no. I had been wasting words to speak to her at all. , **O Thou bird-sweet river of Love, that warblest through the pebbly gorge of Life! I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, I A O!” Her voice had sunk to a clear murmur. We found ourselves in the street. The chucker-out hailed us a taxi. I stopped her song at last. My mouth was on her mouth. We were driving in the chariot of the Sun through the circus of the Universe. We didn’t know where we were going, and we didn’t care. We had no sense of time at*all. There was a sequence of sensa- tions; but there was no means of regulating them. It was as if one’s mental clock had suddenly gone mad. I have no gauge of time, subjectively speaking, but it must have been a long while before our mouths separated, for as this happened I recognised the fact that we were very far from the club. She spoke to me for the first time. Her voice thrilled dark unfathomable deeps of being. I tingled in every fibre. And what she said was this :— “Your kiss is bitter with cocaine.” It is quite impossible to give those who have no experience of these matters any significance of what she said. It was a boiling caldron of wickedness that had suddenly bubbled over. Her voice rang rich with hellish glee. It stimulated me to male intensity. I caught her in my arms more fiercely. The world went black before my eyes. I perceived nothing any more. I