I have just taken the one MDMA tab. At the same V festival where we first saw the Prodigy. Maureen’s niece had listened to me expressing a desire to try it out, and found a source.
It didn’t take long to work its magic. We were walking to one of the stages, and it hit me how much I was loving the company, about 8 or 9 of us. Several times I found myself thinking that there could be nothing more enjoyable than this late August afternoon. The sun was shining out such warmth, lightly playing across my head and back.
I’m anything but a fan of big crowds, but these 80,000 or so people were more gentle and caring than the usual mob. Every joke from our gang was a floating muse of delight, and every smile contained a deep wealth of love. I’m not knocking this, it felt bloody wonderful. These words are a poor shadow of the feelings.
Franz Ferdinand started playing.
‘Take Me Out’ was note-perfect, the singer melodically owning every cadence of each utterance. Our friend Andrea decided that walking to the loos was too much effort, and so we surrounded her, while she squatted on the ground. Our little group epitomised positivity, hilarity, caring, fellowship and any other aspect of concresence you can name.
There was no comedown, no descent into negativity or sadness. Just a gradual winding down, paralleled by the sun itself dipping in the sky.
Given the offer, I would take it again. Quality experience, leaving a memory that I can access until dementia sets in fully.
A decade or so on, nature offers its own forms of ecstasy. Watching my tulips unfold has been mesmeric during the last few days.
The Biscuit Factory 