This is a story whether real or fake, I leave it in your hands to decide. My stand is that it is
FICTION
. I am a Pick Up Artist; do not PM me for “anything” other than your love and sex life.
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You right there
, the person reading this right now. Quit looking around and pay attention. Feeling insignificant, unappreciated, and always felt you could have achieved something greater? So your life took a detour, skewing off the great plan you once set for yourself. Because if you know what I’m talking about, then you are just like me. I know what you’re wondering; who am I? Lets start with who I was. I was what you are when you look into a mirror right now; I was you. And if you looked hard enough, I promise you’ll see the same amount of disbelief like I had at what you’ll be able to accomplish on your own. If you even think you needed a doctorate in Physics, a bank vault full of money, or some special training from the government to be someone significant, you cannot be more wrong. How you choose to use this innate ability, is entirely your choice. If you’re even remotely interested in how I used it to rattle the entire establishment, then boy do I have a tale to tell.
Chapter 1
Because for the longest time in my life, it wasn’t always this way. For the first half of my life, I have been running someone else’s race. Going to school, getting good grades, making it to Junior College, and I wasn’t very good at it. I was someone else the government of Singapore wanted me to be; a product of the system. It seemed that if I wasn’t good at Math and Science, I was stupid. In the end, I had to pursue an education in the United States.
September 2012, New York
The house party was typical; booze, college kids, underage college kids, and marijuana. Everything that I have questioned for the past 20 years of my life seemed to ended with my stay in the United States. The first time I did Marijuana in the United States, it made me question the morality my actions. The very line of right and wrong seemed to have blurred with the buzz of the THC, an active chemical in marijuana. I was well educated in Singapore; “say No to Drugs”, say “No to underage sex”, “Americans are too liberal”, “Do not corrupt the Asian values”. All these things were constantly reinforced by the Singapore government. Even in my time as a police officer, everything I learnt about drugs and narcotics was fed by the government.
Rewind back a few Months
,
One day a friend visited from Los Angeles, a fellow Singaporean, Jay. He was on his Spring Break and decided to travel to the East Coast to visit. We drank, we talked, and then he brought up the topic on narcotics.
“Whoah Jay, you know it’s wrong right. Marijuana, MDMA, what? You’re scaring me right now.”
“I knew you would say that L, but before you judge me, you should do your own research into it and determine which is right and wrong”
We went on talking, and after he left, I hit my computer. Research paper after research paper all the way into the morning. In a single night, I became an expert on marijuana, LSD, Cocaine, and MDMA. I immediately knew which were bad. Suddenly I felt I was lied to my entire life; I was taught that all drugs were addictive, causes mental problems, causes broken families etc etc. Right in front of my eyes were medical reports on the chemistry of marijuana and its actual recorded historical use that dated back to 1000BC. I began to formulate my own judgement to good and bad drugs as Jay suggested. Cocaine, Heroin, MDMA, Meth, they are all bad; I knew right from the research papers. One thing was clear: I had to get myself some Weed, and LSD, and I mean to try it.
At present, September 2012, New York
.
All the months of partying, getting to know new people, building networks, exchanging contacts finally paid off. I was living the life. Here I was, at a party of college students from prestigious universities, and it was just one of the many parties I go to, and get invited to. It made me realize how hypocritical the whole world was. All we did the whole night was booze and getting stoned from marijuana. Addictive? Definitely not. You’ll always hear someone having sex in the bathroom, or see a couple making out by the window. Cocaine, Marijuana, MDMA, name it. There’ll always be somebody in the room who sells it. Ivy League university student by day, drug dealer by night, nothing new. The modulus operandi was always the same; sell to first hand contacts, exchange nothing more than your number, and name. Basic rule of thumb is: don’t ask questions. The less you know, the better; just pay, Shut the fuck up, and enjoy.
“L, come meet my friend, David. David, L, L, David.” Steven gestured with a Bud Light in his hand. Introduction was short, chill, and simple. David was a Korean American. A little taller than me, he wore a beanie, and had that typical swag about him when he talked. Smart dude, Economics major. We shook hands, made small talk. If there’s one thing unique about David, it was that he was a drug dealer part time.
“Steven’s been telling me all about you, how he gets his stuff from you. He shares it with me sometimes, but I pay him for a few grams of marijuana that he gets from you. Good stuff, the sativa buzz was light, and I didn’t feel heavy from the indica cannabinoids.”
“I’m glad you like it, L. You certainly know your stuff. Take my number xxxxxxxx, just let me know if you need more. You know I only sell to real enthusiasts who know the nitty gritty details of the bud, instead of wannabes who just want a smoke”
“Cool, thanks, you know what; Cheers. I’m actually looking for LSD, do you know where I can get some of those?”
“Try Silk Road”
Silk Road back then was the eBay and Amazon of the drug dealers. You use a secure program called TOR, log in, it directs you to an even deeper part of the web, and you key in the website Silk Road url and there you go. Money is exchanged through an online currency called Bitcoins which you have to pre-purchase beforehand. It’s simple: you search your drug, see the dealers and their country of shipping (usually Canada), and then read the reviews and ratings about them from other buyers, and pay. Scammers and bad “products” are usually revealed through the reviews. You can buy anything you want on it, from Cocaine, to crystal Meth. Dealers receive their Bitcoins, they ship their product to you within 7 days in the most ingenious methods. It could be a bag of Godiva chocolates addressed to you as the “sweetheart”, or a hollowed-out candle; it could be anything.
- Continued
It didn’t take long for me to start hitting the keypads on my computer after I got home. Silk Road? The eBay of the dark underworld into any narcotics? Sounds a little too good to be true. Whatever it is, I had to give it a shot. I went on Reddit and read so much about Silk Road that I was beginning to get a clearer picture of how it worked. Whatever, lets try it.
“Lets see. BlueViolet99, most trusted Dealer for LSD, 5 stars for quality.. Hmm. Lets try it.”
10 hits, $100 USD equivalent. So I waited for the mail. It came after 4 days, talk about speed. I opened the package; in it was a brand new wallet of some brand I never heard of before. There was even a card addressed to me wishing me and my family a Happy Birthday. I was touched. Hold on, was I scammed? It didn’t take me long to realize that it was all part of the stealth act. Within the wallet was a strip of Blotting Paper, about the size of a name card. There were 10 squares, I suppose thats where I rip it off and eat it. Who cares, I felt like I was a hippie now in the 60s in the revolution of sex and counterculture. More importantly, I knew the science behind it - Im a science student. Organic chemistry is my life.
“Vivian, you gotta come over to my apartment tonight.” Vivian was someone who is in that special zone where we like doing stuff together, drunk or sober. She was Asian, had long black hair with a slight curl. Nothing out of the ordinary if you see her on the streets. She majored in Art, and was a fellow pot smoker. According to her, smoking pot gives her the creative surge. She came, we talked, got relaxed and put a blot in our mouth.
After 20mins we were still talking. I knew it. It was a fake. There goes a 100 dollars, completely unrefundable. “Wasn’t that where Annabelle met that White dude who said she - whoa, i think i just saw my fingers distort”
Vivian was laughing so hard and she said “I swear I saw the chairs move in the painting!”
Ok it was real. We felt connected to universe. I had all the answers, life, death. I found a way to fit 300 cows in a room, did that make any sense? Amazing, we lay down and rubbed against each other looking at the ceiling. Suddenly her hair felt so soft, like black mush mellows that I had to have it all over my face. She kept put her hands in my pocket and kept swirling it around and said it felt like the depths of eternity.
“If pockets were deep enough, it is possible to reach in and pull out anything you want..”
And I just thought to myself, that is so true.. Wow, the world started making sense now.. We just wanted to cuddle and feel the universe..
- Continued
There we were on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly we didn’t feel like talking anymore. The whole feeling of being in harmony with everything else around was just overwhelming. Although I remembered dimming the lights down, the whole place seemed to light up with as if someone spiritual was in the room. I felt transcendent. It was unlike Marijuana, where you either stone in a couch locked state, or get filled with creative energy and find everything around you funny. This time, it was pure imagination.
The acid “trip” intensified as the minutes went by. Out of the blue Vivian started counting while lying against my chest with my arm inside her shirt.
“One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six..” and on she went counting. I kept my silence and smiled at the ceiling where I could see rotating tiles switching positions like those old school tile games, where you had to move tiles to form a picture, except it was much more transcendent and interesting now. I knew we were losing track of time, thats why Vivian started counting. Even with marijuana, depending on the “trip”, time distortion is a typical occurrence, where you feel like you’ve slowed down time to a crawl. The clock seemed to be stuck forever at 9:57pm. Was there something wrong with the clock? I could swear I knew we were tripping for at least 15 to 20minutes, but why is the clock indicating that only 2minutes had passed? Relax, I gotta relax. I let this new energy take me and told my consciousness “Now, take me places!”
My fingers were so sensitive, I didn’t realize I was gently kneading Vivian’s belly and her new found sensitivity seemed to have set in as well. Her arms were now wrapped back around my neck as she pulled my face down to feel my breath on her neck. Whatever sensation sex typically held when sober, this right now was at least heightened exponentially. I wasn’t horny, but I really in all honesty wanted to take in the texture of her skin as it glided against mine. I wanted to achieve a spiritual connection with Vivian where we could be one in spirit and mind. We slipped out of our clothes slowly and continued our skin to skin bonding rubbing my chest against her breasts. I needed to smell more of her breast; I don’t know why, but I just wanted to take in every scent her breast gave out. I could feel the molecules around her and her skin respirating and hear it in subtle hisses. I moaned. She moaned. Then as we glided against each other, the bedsheets crinkled and wrinkled. I saw an ocean on the bed! Clean to the seabed, and wavy on the surface. I was on top of Vivian, and she was my boat. We were swimming. It was the most amazing feeling ever achieved. I had to make love to her on the sea surface. We couldn’t sink; apart from her warm skin, I could feel and hear the waves all around as we were love making. I was inside her, thrusting in slowly and pulling out. Were we moving? Now I know where the phrase “sex is the motion of the ocean” came from. It was a revelation, and it made me happy knowing we were making love to the motion of the ocean waves.
Almost there. I felt a surge inside; it was so sensitive that I could feel my semen flowing through every vein and loaded into the barrel. Finally I came. Jet after jet of semen came bursting out and made their run to freedom inside her pussy. She started moaning and gasping.
“I can feel it. I can feel everything being shot inside. I can feel it clinging on to my walls. L, I feel your sperm swimming!”
I know she wasn’t lying. She wasn’t alone in that feeling. I could feel a part of myself inside her even though it left my body. It wasn’t an intense sex, but it was in every way a spiritual connection where all life and the universe was in harmony achieved through our bodies. And it was also a new revelation: sex on LSD was the best.
To be Continued -
Hi all, I appreciate your PMs and inquiries. You must have a lot of questions to why this write up doesn’t feel like fiction. I will not answer it. As I stated earlier, I will only answer PMs relating to girls, and nothing more. Please do not ask me for anything “else” . I believe in harm reduction, and do not condone breaking the law
Chapter 2 - The Magic Dragon
I was an enthusiast. Ever since I did Marijuana, it was a life altering experience. A man can call himself a lot of things, social smoker, social drinker etc. The truth is, I don’t buy that bullshit. A smoker is a smoker, period. However being an enthusiast is different. Ever since I experienced this new found freedom, I had to know more. The US had its own fan clubs dedicated to Marijuana, LSD, and they were huge. Every bud I smoked, I knew its content, right down to its name. Almost every college kid who does Marijuana here know what they are getting. We talk about it at parties, and nobody is clueless.
Marijuana is a general term, it is broken down into a Sativa, and an Indica. From there, there are thousands of strains (think of it as species). It could be a Sativa (characterized by a head buzz, creativity, energy, giggling ), it could be an Indica (characterized by time distortion, couch locking, body numbing). Certain people liked different things, and every time you approach a dealer, you just have to tell him your preference, maybe a Sativa dominant strain. He’ll give you the name of the strain he has in stock, you’ll go online and check the data bases. If you like the reviews and the content breakdown, you’ll buy it. Thats the way it works in the US: You tell him what you want, he quotes his stock and his price, tell him when/where to meet, you pay for it, he gives you what you want. People usually buy a gram at a time. Nobody in school wants to hold a large amount because it is a felony. The unspoken rule is: Let the dealers deal with the law. Even if he rats you out to the cops, the cops won’t even bother about you - they go after the dealers, and the kingpins. Possession laws in New York are 25grams, and a $100 fine if police catch you with for the first time. Who the hell carries 25grams ? Even for home consumption, 25 grams is a lot.
I can’t help it. I used to be a Police Officer in SPF, so how the drug network runs in the US really intrigues me. The ironic truth is, most dealers don’t even know their dealers. It’s an intricate network that stretches all the way to Columbia, Canada and Mexico, and needless to say, run by cartels. These are the guys the DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration) are interested in. In University grounds, the student dealers buy just enough from their sources to sell to their first hand contacts. They generally avoid using Smart Phones - most I’ve seen use analog dumb phones. There isn’t 1 big dealer; there’s a dealer, another dealer, and another, each with their own network who are completely unrelated, and from different sources. Most don’t even know each other. Contrary to what movies portray, these people are non-violent, and non-aggresive especially the Marijuana dealers. Geeky looking, long hair like Jonas Brothers, wears glasses, Honor roll students, typically spends most of his time in the library studying. Some are fat as fuck like Seth Rogan, some are scrawny looking who look like they can get blown away by the wind. They probably even know more games than you.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
fatfella
Bro where you copying this story from?
It’s obviously not yours.
Why you plagiarise?
You Shia Lebeouf is it???!!! Haha.
feel free to Google it. I wrote this. What else is there to say. Anyway, Thanks for indirectly saying its really good. I needed that.
If anyone can find this story elsewhere, I will pay you money for it.
- Continued
Chapter 2
(Epiphany)
Somehow the game changed with the discovery of Silk Road. I don’t need to go and meet someone deep inside GAP, H&M, or a Clothing Store to do the exchange. I didn’t need to risk showing my face anymore. Simple, easy of use, and most of all, anonymous. I didn’t care if DEA found a way to hack into Silk Road and extract its database. I bought small, and even if they got to my house, it’ll be long gone. Dealers were comfortable too; they could sell to anyone now, and people could rate their services and product quality. Everyone was happy with the new system. Needless to say, this created a new problem for the law enforcers, but more on that later.
Of Rainbows and Magic Dragons
Vivian and I knew this was the shit. Its no wonder the hippie culture of the 60s involved the greatest social revolution in the US. It brought about an explosion of expression and art forms; scientists were using it and testing it in military applications, doctors saw it as a treatment from headaches, to anxiety - everyone was in on the action. It had a reason to be big, and I knew why now.
The 10 tabs I bought from Silk Road soon ran out, not by my own consumption, but I gave half of it to Vivian who wanted it for creativity and inspiration. I got to admit, her ideas were pretty good. She wasn’t the first art student I know. I know plenty of Art and Music student all around. Singapore is probably the only place in the world with the highest concentration of engineering students. You can hardly find an engineering student at a social event or a general University event. Apparently Americans would rather pursue hard sciences like Chemistry, and Biology or the Humanities that involved a lot of expression. That’s probably why marijuana and LSD are popular among these students.
“L, anyone in the Arts can tell you they would kill for inspiration,” quoting Vivian.
She was right. It wasn’t long before she started buying stuff from Silk Road, and we would trip together with some friends over the weekends either over smoke, or a Blot. We never mix the two - I told them myself, its a huge unknown and you never know how they may combine in your body to form a poison. Ask me, I should know; HCl in your stomach reacts with an alkene hydrocarbon in the LSD formation. Who’s to say how THC and LSD will react together. There was Josh, Coby, Jessica, and Melissa. All of us were enthusiasts in our own right. Whenever I was in doubt about the THC content in the Weed that didn’t measure up to the dealer’s claim, my first reaction is always “Ask Melissa, she would know.” For the record, Melissa was Singaporean; ironic isn’t it. Soon, instead of talking in-terms of THC and cannabinoids percentages, we were talking in micrograms. 150ug, 250ug, 300ug, became our reference to LSD. Some dealers claim to provide 250ug per Blot, but sometimes shit happens, where claim doesn’t measure up to reality. Were we addicted? Definitely not. I felt I drank more coffee and tea in the morning even before I came to the US.
Like me, Melissa was completely disillusioned with Singapore. We were typical products of the government, fed with whatever they wanted us to think and behave. Every testimony from government approved sources we grew up on centered around a drug addict who went on a life of crime hurting himself and his family, until he “changed”. So stereotypical it was, I can even predict their next storyline, with new faces, new races, and new bloodshed. It was ironic because, as a scientist in training myself, I had to know what that glorified addict was on before - I had to know his circumstances. For the record, from my own studying. Almost everything else under the umbrella of narcotics is bad. The psychedelic content claimed by dealers can only be proven through chemical testing. Psychoactive drugs like Cocaine and MDMA are typically infused and mixed with cheap and dangerous fillers in its form to cause a bigger “high”. In Singapore, there was no room for question. Take what the government tells you, and shut up. I remember even doing a test in school about drugs that certified us as “experts” at the end of it.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
SammyNewbie
Since when ever was there such a test? I remember anti drug talks… but tests? ^^"
There was. Wasn’t a spaced sitting or a serious test. took place in Civics and Moral Education class.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
SammyNewbie
Most of mine were used up for Math or English Lessons instead. After all, they are non gradeable or simply not part of KPI.
I am your most loyal fan waiting here, but take your time and no pressure
thanks dude. will make sure you’re well entertained.
To all, I’m amazing , but please don’t take a story too seriously lol . It’s like watching a really good movie and wondering if it’s true