now, i. wanna,.beyodog[party]

[kirk nelton zappata]

so messed up I want you here

In my room I want you here,,

now were gonna be face to face,,.

and I'll lay right down in my favorite place.

and now I wanna be your dog.

The room, it was small. He could feel the tight knit corners, of the whole symmetrical three dimension room. Yet he could hear the music pulsing through his veins, roaring in his skull. Feeling as though he had never felt so real in all of his life, that was what he felt every time. As he opened his eyes, he opened his mind. His eyes watching scarlet, orange, olive drab rays suddenly start spinning above him. Wrapping together like snakes, then expanding and sprawling all across the ceiling like a blanket. Suddenly, the people all around him…their faces became distorted. Their bodies became aliens. Everything was turning into shapes right before him. It was almost overwhelming, but amazingly sensual at the same time. One moment, he could feel his heart pounding. The next he could see everything spinning, and melting. He didn’t know what to do with himself, everything seemed so out of whack, so odd. Then he paused, recognizing the band that was blaring on the stereo. Yawning man, yes…their instrumental bass sung through his body a million times. Echoing through every electrical neuron in his brain. He sunk deep into a solid plain couch. Guitar solo’s screaming through his mind, at the same time seeing fire blare through the speaker’s of his friend’s house. He exhaled, excited yet unsure of what to do with himself. He was so messed up.

This was going to be a good party, he had known it from the beginning. As he planned to have it at his house, he promoted all the supplies they had needed. The tons of alcohol, drugs, and music. This club was immense though, many knew different people that he had never seen before. Though his sight was disillusioned (as was his mind), he could for a split second see the real thing. The strobe lights, black lights, and color lights creating a mystical array of light in his vision. He breathed, he was on his last hour of tripping on acid. Earlier that day he dropped six hits onto his tongue, and tripped out for six hours. He felt himself slowly coming down, but the visuals were still rapid. He’d start drinking soon. He would get so wasted he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. It was to be another experience that he would store away in his fried memory.

“Kirk, hey, hey, Kirk. Y’all-right?” A at first three headed figure appeared blurry in front of his face, by the flashing of the strobe light, his face looked monstrous. He almost gasped, but held it in with all of his might. “Monster in the sky, sky…man…sky-man. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He choked out, trying to make his voice louder than the music. However, it frustrated him how he could not talk as well as he wanted. He took a step backwards, bumping into a couple making out against the wall. He then took a step forward towards his “friend”. “Kirk, ha, its me Ray? Dude, you are trippin’ out!” He still looked like a blue monster, it was hard to concentrate on his face, it was frightening. “Uh…ye-yeah” He looked around briefly, watching melting blurry bodies move themselves all over the place. “Well, the club is the shit! I gotta hook-up with that Stacy girl.” It was obvious that Ray wanted to converse, but it was hard enough keeping his mind in check. However, he looked back at Ray…his face suddenly slightly recognizable. However, hardly. “R-right-rightcheous , fuck that fuckin’ fuck.” Though his intention to was to say “Go get laid!”. Ray laughed, his laugh sounded like a monster as well. He heard Colour Haze blare over the stereos, good fucking band. He picked all the soundtracks to play. He was proud of himself.

He couldn’t take much of Ray’s face any longer, since it looked like the skin of the monster creature was falling from his face. He grunted, and stepped past him…walking quickly away. A drunk girl with a beer ran into him, leaning into him…almost passing out. He pushed her off “Uhhmm, sorry”, he looked at her. As she suddenly pushed her body against his, and leaned closed to his face. Her breath reeked of cheap Busch beer. She bit her lip, staring into her mixed color eyes. Watching her face turn into all colors. She was gone. He pushed her off of him, and appeared to walk into another smaller room. The brightness of the lights made everything look much clearer than it did outside. The people, they suddenly looked as if they were moving in slow motion. The way their moved their mouths so slowly was puzzling to him. He grunted and made his way to the counter. “Franky Zapt, my man! Wassup?” He eyed around him suspiciously. His friend Peter. Peter pushed a miller light into his hand. Smiling warmly. “Have a nice trip dude, your gonna need this beer.” He opened the beer quickly and chugged it until it was halfway gone. He looked up from his beer, his friend gone. Whoa, man!

He moved through the crowds to the club once again, everything rapidly becoming distorted. He didn’t know what to do. He took a deep gulp of his beer, feeling the warm substance trickle down his throat and leave a tangent taste. “Hey, Kirk.” Somebody patted his shoulder, they were already gone for him to look. He leaned against the wall. His gaze plastered to the broad crowds before him. Watching bodies dance, bodies move, bodies melt and intertwine with other bodies. Oh, it was so fascinating. It was almost a art. If only he could share this experience with somebody, he wanted them to see what he was seeing. It was genius in his mind. He wanted to get messed up, wake up to a girl he didn’t know, then start all over again. He wanted to visualize a world, a world he could only know. Where stairwells turned into cobble paths leading to a abstract jungle upstairs. He was too terribly messed up.

---

and lose my heart on the burning sands

(lyrics: I wanna be your dog-Iggy Pop and the Stooges)

[alison summer black]

Music was blaring, making the room vibrate. With a deep-set frown, Alison wondered why she had bothered to come to the party. She hardly knew any of these people anymore. But… at least she was out doing something other than swimming this late at night. The lights seemed ever changing as she watched the ceiling from her place on a couch. It was like, “A spaztastic rainbow of swirly amazingness,” as a near-by person muttered, staring at the ceiling as well. Ali laughed quietly, shaking her head as she sat in quiet. Well, almost quiet; but only if you didn’t count the blaring music, loud voices, and drunken slurs. Okay, so it wasn’t that quiet.

Ali stood, trying to hold her balance as she moved around the room. Strobe lights always made her feel like she was moving in slow-motion. The flashing lights made her feel somewhat sick as she wandered from room to room; trying her best to find something nonalcoholic to drink. She smiled at someone as she passed them, though her face was lost in a blur of colorful lights bouncing off of the swirling smokes of various kinds. With a small sniff, she detected the scents of weed, cigarettes, and what smelled faintly of almonds. Wracking her brain for a drug that smelled of almonds when smoked, Ali blinked a few times and looked around. She didn’t see anyone who looked like they were doing heroin, but then… she could hardly see at all. She frowned deeply, skittering away as fast as she could. She would need to jump in the river for a while before she went home so the medley of aromatic smokes would be wiped from her. She groaned quietly as she walked right into a random person. “I’m sorry! I can hardly see in this strobe light,” she apologized, inching around the nameless figure.

As she wandered, Ali wondered if she were looking for a way out, of if she had legs just as restless as her mind. She shrugged lightly to herself and continued to wander toward the back of the club. She stopped half way through a room as a couple making out fell across the floor. Ali laughed, hearing some by standers yelling for the two would-be Succubae to get a room. She cautiously stepped over them, taking a quick picture of the romping pair to post online later. She glanced over her shoulder as someone wrapped their arms around her, but they were gone. She shook her head, assuming that she had been there so that whoever did it was just using her to save them self from falling over. She began to hum, feeling rather alone in this large group of people. She stopped in an area she assumed was the bar, and wandered up to a senior who looked familiar. She grinned, tapping Kirk on the shoulder. ”Hey cutie! How are ya?” she asked him, noticing his rather stoned appearance. She didn’t ask about what he was tripping on, she didn’t need to. She’s find out by talking to him, just by his demeanor.

TAG - kirk
WORDS - 518
NOTES - kind of short, but heyy! (:
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0

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[kirk nelton zappata]

so messed up I want you here

In my room I want you here,,

now were gonna be face to face,,.

and I'll lay right down in my favorite place.

and now I wanna be your dog.

The trip he was having was unbelievable, the things he was visualizing was a master piece. In his entire imagination, he loved seeing the bright unanimous objects that floated through the pigment of space. However, by the returning flashes of clear vision he was having…he knew he was quickly coming down. He stood for what it had seemed a eternity, clutching the thin aluminum can of the half full substance in which he called beer. He breathed, watching the eccentric vibrant air create a observation of patterns before him. A steady tempo of triangles, swirls, as well as octagons meshing together. He felt a fat body high coming along, his eyes closed, and he could feel bodies brushing against him. He felt a great aura of delight, thrill, and happiness pulsate through the living room. He opened his eyes and he could see reality for a moment, taking a glimpse of people wandering aimlessly around and talking to others.

It didn’t happen fast, matter of fact it usually took him a couple hours to settle into the right clearest state of mind after dropping acid. He tried not to do it often, but as a drug dealer who loved acid and knew how to create the substance…he had it at his fingertips. He relaxed, his muscles strangely tense. A grin, sarcastic yet strange wrapped around all the corners of his broad rugged lips. His eyes had this odd look, sharp…piercing, yet glazed over. Of course, the affects of drug usage. “I’m shuttin’ down…shuttin’ down, your green machine.” Kyuss, the band blaring on the stereo rocked his brain, his skull. It was a mix of stoner doom, in which he adored the most. This being a all person party he invited, he was sure some people weren’t approving of such strange droning sounds.

Kirk’s fingers slowly traced a long dreadlock that had fallen aimlessly from his heavy black beanie, tucking it back within the rest of the knotted bundle. He stumbled a bit, his body still uneasy with the movement of the potent drug that was running through his blood stream. He began to see a little more clearly now, with visions of people more prominent in his eye-sight. However, there was still a obstruction within what he was seeing. He pushed himself into the fluorescently lit kitchen, where all the drinks were being served. He smirked a little, as he caught sight of where the drinks were being served. A entire stacking of empty aluminum beer cans were forming on one counter, it was massive.

He took a deep swig of the alcohol, he would be coming down enough to get to drinking. Most likely not the smartest idea known, however, he was here to party. His mind was already damaged enough, fried as most would say. “Ehhhyeh, Kirk, mayne…how you feeling?” Came the stumbling drunken vision of his friend Chad, his face slightly colorfully twisted. “J-just alright, dude.” The kid nodded, laughed, then stumbled away with his bottle of Jack Daniels in his hands. He laughed, shaking his head slowly. Pushing his barren hand into his pockets, his distracted conscious catching notice of the disposition of neurotically placed visuals.

Then he heard a familiar voice, taking him more than a few moments to process as he abruptly turned. He caught sight of her pretty face, one that he often liked to see on a daily basis. He mainly saw her at school, where they had met. “Beautiful, god, looked at you.” His slurred vocals admitted as he smiled and pushed his arm around her and embraced her. He looked down at her, his eyes glazed. “Forgive me, sugar, I’m-I’m…coming down, struggle to focus.” He stared at her intently, watching her blonde hair disperse in colors. He strained a few seconds, then shook his head slowly. “You wanna brew, a whole selection…r-right in front of you.” He pushed his hands out to indicate the beer stacked up on the counter before him.