How LSD Killed My Girlfriend
And allowed my true self to be born.
When I met Linda at the shophouse I was already drunk.
I was only twenty years old then, twenty and terrified of women. I had just got out of two terrible relationships and had no desire to get into another, so when Linda invited me to spend the night with her I almost refused — and I would have refused her, too, if she didn’t tempt me by offering me drugs.
See, I’ve always been a curious child, the kind of child who drove my teachers mad, mad with questions like:
“Why is the sun a star?”
“Why is a whale a mammal?”
“Why is the sky blue?”
Why, why, why, why, why. I was an insatiable curiosity machine, and at that particular point in my life I was very curious about psychedelic drugs.
My curiosity was first piqued when I watched an episode of the Joe Rogan Experience. In that episode, a very bald and very stoned Joe was extolling the benefits of marijuana — aka weed. I didn’t believe him at first, but the more I listened the more he made sense, and so I eventually thought, “Ah what the hell, why not? I’ll smoke some weed someday, see if it’s as cracked up as Joe is making it out to be.”
