I smoked meth once. I was drinking in Albuquerque. I started talking to this weird guy who looked like a stubby puerto rican midget. His head was a little too big for his body. I told him, "Let's get some blow," as a joke, because I'm immature, and I joke around about stuff like that. He took me seriously and begged me nonstop for about an hour to get some blow. I finally said okay. So, we went out to get some blow. When we got the blow, it wasn't really blow. It was meth. The little bastard was a meth head and decided to trick me into buying meth for him. I took one line of that stuff, and all I can remember is asking why it burned. Before I knew it, I was smoking it in a glass pipe with him. I drank an entire case of beer. I don't remember how many beers were in there, but I drank them all, thinking that I was doing coke and getting drunk. Two whole days went by in what seemed like 30 minutes. When I tried to go to sleep, I lay awake and stared at the wall in my room. It was turning different colors. I started hallucinating spiders and little tiny people. I still had no idea that I smoked meth. I thought that I was going to die. I went to the emergency room. I was freaking out. I suffered longterm anxiety from that. Life has never been the same.
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