A book of tweets about a crazy teen.
The Tweets of Erik Phantasy
The light is open, I have broken into the beginning is this winning?
It’s weird when your day starts out with a spank.
The comfort of home leaves me wanting exploration.
The ends of the world or the ends of the crib?
Days move slow with lots of sleep.
Intermission it ‘s time to eat.
The days are slow but I continue to grow.
- TEENS (the beginning)
Maybe running away won’t get me as far as traveling.
The lights now dim the path is uncertain.
New friends you do not know and the first smoke.
Nicotine is not my favorite high. It doesn’t get me euphoric.
New state same flavor, the world seems brighter when you have no destination.
Sometimes it’s boring moving forward.
One man’s stop it smells like hops.
Road narrows and disappears, is this worse than fear?
A new days sun, but still not fun.
purpose and fortitude can make you selfish and power drunk.
speaking of drunk, my first sip of beer, only a sip.
Something special about the beer. Now I want to grow more hair.
Month’s have past nothing new, on this journey I now stew.
I can drive, but cannot fly, mainly because the price is too high.
In a bar after I traveled far, time to do some drinking at this bar.
3 beers in now this is living.
Four don’t want to kiss this toilet no more.
Day have past conscious at last.
Rays of sun burn my heart, and then start tearing my eyes apart.
Coffee is good but still not right, guess I shouldn’t of got it from the convenience store, right?
Years have passed the beer is no better, tried liquor, swill, malt and even greater.
Found my first joint what will I see?
This is the right path for me. Psychedelic travel shall now commence. But I only have one cent.
Found some good friends. I will get high again.
Remember back on the day I got baked led me to understand every toke that I take.
The wondrous emissions of the worlds own refineries is toxic, vain and quite unrefined.
The days of THC are currently engrossing me, but the bridge goes on and I follow that lawn.
In a strange place of hashish, it becomes burnt like grass, make a melting resin like rendered fat.
I slept with the hash the dream was strange and fast.
I felt my body escape as I twirled in a world which I thought I was awake.
The sun shown in on the world that was thin, people became blankets of introspection, which led me to find him?
The olden days are now long gone now it is time to move on.
Henceforth I shall the strongest hallucinogen of its kind.
Miles go by all the time and I am no closer to the kind.
I bump into Timothy Hashcee a man of wealth and kind.
A mansion so small that it might be a house, but filled so tightly you couldn’t even add a mouse.
Weed, Hash, and Ecstasy plenty of other stuff how fancy.
The Ecstasy is kicks in as I hold a gun.
Shooting the can is really fun. The shots have a rhythm and pound you can really hear that sound coming down.
The night ends with a friend, and here we sit smoking again.
The weed waits for me, just as we both agreed.
I ask for something stronger, he says he’ll be back but just keeps taking longer.
He comes back with speed I say just give me the weed.
I think I know says Timothy and pull out a pyramid that glows.
Nothing happened for about twenty minutes.
20 I’m stoned.
30 the carpet is moving. Creepy up my thighs.
40, land is gone I am up in the air.
50 the air melting over there.
At this point I found the point to travel, Hallucinogenic euphoria inbound.
Walls of mysteria come closer to hysteria.
Untamed hypnotic trances and chairs do confound.
The unapologetic narration now has an echo sound.
Time is not possible in this way. The clock liquefies as I look for the day.
Justification for gravity is no possible when falling through the couch.
Understatement is gravy when compared to the way things are going crazy.
The colors combine between my eyes as I realize everything is fine.
The stoned feeling is prominent now pushing against my boundaries of how.
Intonation of songs ring for hours after the notes are gone.
My pants sag as they melt at least that’s the last thing the pants felt.
I think I am on the floor because above me is the bottom of the door.
Sustenance to sustain is not needed, I feel like I am being reheated.
Excited of the colors I see, they begin to combine into a new color called glee.
How long does this last, is it even half past?
I wrote a lot about this first trip you see but it quite important to me.
Walls breathe, ceilings breathe, I wonder what they are thinking about me?
Strong and powerful this acid is flowerful.
My new favorite thing comes with a zing. What other item can make your brain go bing?
Thought and perception are both misconceptions. Reality eludes and is made up by dudes.
On the other side of the mountain your mind floats to the bottom.
Yet it hasn’t moved as the psychedelics intrude.
Timothy cane looks like a vein. I inspect it closer now it’s a toaster.
Just when I thought I was coming down the psychedelics confound.
Sometimes it is less but really more. Either way I can’t get off the floor.
The Sun goes down as the colors abound. Fresh new perspective as dusk is round.
The night creeps in, not knowing where I’ve been.
He says did you come down? I know I am not there but I am not in the air.
If you smoke a pipe it might help you hype up your trip and make it quick.
It started again tripping is my new friend.
Psychedelics are the road, That keeps you from being a malicious toad.
Trees dance, while I am in a trance, I see the path which disappears at last.
The coffee brings me down, but with a smile not a frown.
I review the day and wonder away. Should I do this again? Is it my new best friend?
Timothy says he has more but we should wait for a more appropriate time when we can sit on our behind.
I look into other forms of fun, seeing I should do some more of this one.
My days clears me with lots of weed, even some on which I could feed.
A hike in the woods gives us the perfect way to drop away the day.
The second time is better, I understand the weather. What it means to me and how I can trip forever.
Coming down the second time leaves me a little higher on a cloud. In the back of my head it becomes loud.
We hit the road for adventure, craving the day we pull away.
The road is my home the woods are my bed, it easy when the life is inside your head.
Will my mind be open by DMT? will my guide be shrooms and Hashcee?
All these things are open to me but I really need a place to proceed.
We pull into wood with buds there we meet some thugs.
They tell us about a village, of freedom and love, we follow the path tripping over rocks with a thud.
The miles roll on but we see the pond, where people are playing the drums they are creating, a music so soothing and tribal, if it was on TV it be viral.
Naked people dance and put me in a trance as the acid kicks back.
The peoples movement has trails, it kind of looks like they are on rails.
It continues for hours as I play with the flowers.
This was the place to trip, the place to make me feel hip.
A place out of time as I go out of my mind.
The world disappears as the moon begins to curl into shapes and dimensions I feel an ascension.
I Feel the melting across the rock I fall asleep inside.
The sun rises and all the disguises have slip away into another day.
Pancakes and rain, and just a bit of cane make for a great start to this glorious day.
I help with the fishing and the meal, after we eat we can begin to heal.
This second night is much more serene, it comes easier with some weed and the bean.
I have been out here for days, constantly tripping away.
I think I got my fill, of acid and we ask if there is a bill.
Back on the road the world slips away, we sit in this car for another day.
Then its cactus and the suns blazing, it’s only a matter of time before things become amazing.
After a round and something disgusting, we found some shade and began confronting.
The Horizon was colorful, as our minds began to pull.
The room we weren’t in is spinning.
A meditative calm fills the world. Everything is now Beginning.
Day turns to river, night to air. I really don’t know how long I was out there.
Most of the experience is garbled and weird, but that was sure a good time I had there.
Why would you do cactus in the desert? To connect with the weather in your brain.
It brings me back to acid the thing I now crave.
On the road it is often hard to find your choice, even when you scream with your voice.
In a hotel the first time in twenty days, it’s still hard to wash the dirt away.
We sit bored in front of TV, wondering if hotel life is for me.
A day passes and he finally calls, but our attempt has failed, our emotions fall.
I reflect upon the fun seeing that it was not dumb.
My mind wanders. Was our chance squandered?
Then we bump into salvia. Is this weed or was it more?
luckily we had a lot, because working it was not.
It’s the nature of this beast to surprise you with its teeth.
3rd time’s a charm, at least there was no harm.
Transported far a way to the moon for a day.
It’s strange when there is no air, that you can still bear being there.
I see the earth from far away, the wind is cold but I want to stay.
Like a transported the moon fades, suddenly I am back in the hotel playing spades.
I tell them about my day, but they don’t believe I went that far away.
It doesn’t work for me again but then Timothy tells me about a den.
He tripped and went flying, now they were buying into the fun we had.
It was quite a drug with only a five minute buzz.
We did it all day and never felt the same way.
Time had expired and we had not yet received our wire.
Another Drug for another day it always seems like we are that way.
We waltz to the store, from where we can procure, weed, and more.
The day moves at crawl when your smoke covers the wall.
I knew my high had not been reached but there was more walls to be breached.
In the forms of DMT and PCP both of which could be dangerous for me.
I am here to experiment so you don’t have to.
Find your joy and live with it, there are so many ways you can enjoy it.
Wondering where all the smart Americans are? Well it’s not at a bar.
Drugs expand your minds glands. For better or worse you become more perverse.
Intonations of Inklings bring our minds together, claiming introspection and forever.
Journey fraught with unsurety led to places of perpetuity.
Days of fanciful glee, often ended with LSD.
Indescribable daydreams often lead to longing for intrigue.
Why I am going on and on, Because I am bored and without drug one.
We search high and low but no one knows.
We have no location, just a gas station.
We get on the road for the day, and finally drive away.
The wind flies through my hair, making me very aware.
Of a future with drugs. When I find them I will hug.
Off into the sunlight I go, the next stop is untold.