The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

7 pm

Dear Diary. There's a plate in front of me. On the plate are tabs of LSD. Each tab has been cut in half.

"Everyone ready?" says Joe.

We each pick up half a tab of LSD: me, Kai and Sofia. Kai's a friend from school and Sofia's an American girl I've just met.

The tabs of LSD are small and delicate, like tiny rectangles of sugar paper. We put the tabs in our mouths.

Joe puts one whole tab in his mouth because he's done this before.

"Here's to a good night, guys!" says Kai.

Is now a good time to mention I've never done LSD before.

7:30 pm

Joe's driving us to Las Dalias, Ibiza's most famous hippy market. I'm not sure what a hippy market is. I've never been to a hippy market before. I imagine white-bearded men hawking tye-dye t-shirts and peace medallions, baby boomers holding hands in a circle and singing "Kumbaya, My Lord", and a man hugging a tree while saying, "It's all about embracing Mother Nature, maaaaan."

The LSD is going to kick in at any moment. Despite never having taken LSD before, I have a pretty clear idea of what's going to happen, thanks to numerous references to LSD in TV and movies. Any moment now, the real world will dissolve away and a new world will appear, a world of psychedelic colours, floating eyes, and a purple elephant waving at me from atop a drawing of Queen Victoria.

But what worries me is that I need a piss. And we're in the car and so I can't take a piss. Not unless I want to spray the leather seats and the people in the car with my warm wet urine. I'll have to wait until we get to the market. But what if the LSD kicks in before I can reach a toilet? What if I start hallucinating geometric patterns and imaginary beings and I lose bladder control and I piss my pants? I'll be sitting slouched in a chair with my eyes closed, lost in an acid-induced mindscape, as a dark piss stain of shame grows around my crotch area and people laugh at me. The only consolation is that I'd be too lost in my acid fantasy to notice the growing crowd of people around me pointing and laughing cruelly at the piss stain on my shorts.

Thankfully the LSD hasn't kicked in yet.

I wonder how Joe's feeling. He took a whole tab of LSD earlier and now he's driving. I hope he's not hallucinating monsters standing in the road or anything.

8 pm

We arrive at the hippy market. There are dozens of stalls selling things like dreamcatchers, shawls, candles, trinkets, bracelets, and dresses. Strings of lightbulbs light the stalls with a soft white glow. From far off is the sound of a man singing "I'm a Believer" with an acoustic guitar. The sweet, sick smell of incense fills the air.

We head through the stalls. Joe's leading the way. But I see a sign for a toilet. Now's my chance to urinate before the LSD kicks in.

"I'm just going to the toilet," I say to James because he's next to me. But I'm not sure he's heard me. Oh well.

I ditch my friends, go to the toilet and empty my bladder. Ahhhh, that's better.

But when I leave the toilet, I can't see my friends. There's no sign of them anywhere. How did that happen? I was only gone for a minute.

I wander around the stalls looking for my friends but I can't find them anywhere. And I can't phone them because I left my phone at the villa. Well I didn't want to lose it, did I? I imagined I'd pull the phone out my pocket, hallucinate the phone is a giant talking rat called Simon, and hurl my phone away as far as possible, resulting in a lost phone.

Unhelpfully, the market divides off into different directions and I have no idea which way my friends have gone. This hippy market is like a labyrinth. I imagine when the LSD does finally kick in, I'll walk around unable to find the way out, and all the people will metamorphize into giant hideous rat creatures, all called Simon, and they'll loom over me imposingly, their teeth and fangs dripping with blood, until I eventually reach the middle of the market and encounter Satan himself sitting on a throne made of children's bones.

THen I remember seeing a map of the market earlier, so I go back to have a look at it. I find the map on the wall outside the market. The layout of the market is incredibly simple. The stalls are arranged in three big circles and there are some buildings in one corner. Only an idiot could get lost.

Right then, this should be easy. I go back into the market, pick a random route and follow it. The stench of incense overpowers my nostrils. Children are walking around. I put my sunglasses on so I don't look weird. Then I realise the sunglasses are making me look more weird, not less weird, and I take them off again.

I pass an old man selling dreamcatchers at a stall. The man has a long white beard and he's wearing a bowler hat with a feather tucked into it. He looks up at me as I walk past. Something about my facial expression must trouble him because he frowns slightly.

Oh god, he knows I've taken LSD. He knows. He'll call the police and have me taken to prison.

Wait a minute: hippies love LSD. So maybe he'll come over and give me a hearty slap on the back instead.

Oh, there's my friends. They're buying drinks at a bar. Well, that was an anticlimax.

"I'd thought I'd lost you all," I say. "I thought I'd be wandering around the market by myself while tripping on acid."

Joe laughs. "Did you have any hallucinations yet?"

"Not yet."

"So like, you didn't start thinking that we were all just figments of your imagination?"

"Um. No."

We all sit down at an outdoor restaurant in the middle of the hippy market. I'm feeling thirsty. This will be a common problem throughout the night, by the way. I suspect I have a touch of diabetes. It started when I was eighteen and I would drink so much water that there'd be all these half-empty glasses lying around the house, like in Signs. I went to Lloyds Pharmacy for a free diabetes test and the woman said my blood sugar levels were too high and I'd have to stop eating bread and potatoes. I didn't believe her and I still eat bread and potatoes to this day.

I go and get a plastic cup from the bar and then I go to the toilets and fill the cup with water from the tap.

When I come back, Joe and Kai are laughing hysterically and drawing comics.

"When is this LSD supposed to kick in?" I ask Joe, after he's finished drawing comics and put his pen away.

"Wait. It should have kicked in half an hour ago," says Joe. "Don't you feel any different?"

"No, I don't feel anything," I say.

Joe sighs. "It's my fault. I only gave you half a tab. Look, on half a tab of acid you're barely going to notice it. I could give you another half a tab but honestly, it won't do anything now because it's too late. Do you want another half a tab?"

"Sure," I say.

So Joe rummages around in his pockets. After an eternity he hands me what looks like a tiny fragment of a piece of sugar paper. It could be LSD. It could be a fly's wing. It could be a bit of a leaf. Maybe he's just giving me some poo he's found on the ground to keep me happy.

Whatever it is, I put it in my mouth and swallow it.

After that we go into a club next door to the restaurant. The club's called Akasha. As I'm standing there in the club anxiously waiting for the LSD to kick in, I see Joe and Quirina talking. They must be talking about me. They're probably making plans for what to do with me once this acid kicks in and I lose control of my limbs, bowels, and bladder. I suspect they'll just bundle me in a taxi and send me back home.

When Joe and Quirina have finished talking, I shout to Joe, "DID Quirina TELL YOU TO KEEP AN EYE ON ME?" I have to shout because the music is so loud.

"WHAT?" shouts Joe. "OH, WE COULDN'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU."

Antonina's standing next to me. Surely she's here to keep an eye on me during my impending acid trip.

"ARE YOU HERE TO KEEP AN EYE OR ME?" I shout to her.

She scoffs. "AS IF," she shouts back.

I say nothing for a while.

"ARE YOU OKAY?" shouts Antonina.

"I NEED SOME WATER," I shout.

She sighs. Then she leads me to the bar.

As I stand at the bar, I notice an anti-slip bar mat. It's just a normal anti-slip bar mat. Normal, that is, except for the fact it's undulating. Yes, it's moving, like wavy water. Bar mats shouldn't be undulating. They should just do nothing, like all inanimate objects.

Cripes. I think the acid is kicking in.

11 pm

So far I haven't had any more hallucinations, thank god.

Midnight

Leo is driving us to a club. I'm in the back seat with Joe. James is in the passenger seat.

Leo has been driving for ages. I think he's lost.

As Leo and James bicker about the directions in the front, I say to Joe, "Hey Joe, can I see that comic you drew in the restaurant earlier?"

"What? Oh yeah, sure, dude."

Joe pulls the comic out of his pocket and hands it to me. In the first panel of the comic, Kai is begging Joe for some acid. In the second panel, Joe hands some LSD to Kai, but Joe's drawn himself as God, so when he hands Kai the LSD, it's like God touching the hand of Adam on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

Joe and I are laughing hysterically in the back seat of the car over the comic while Leo and James bicker about the directions to the club.

I try to read some more of the comic but for some reason, I can't focus enough. Probably because of the drugs. So I have to keep going back to the first panel and start again. At which point I start laughing hysterically again.

Finally I say, "I honestly can't read this."

"What, really?" asks Joe.

"I can't focus on it."

So Joe folds the comic up and puts it back in his pocket.

"Wait," I say. "Let me have another go. I promise I'll try to focus this time."

But Joe raises his eyebrows. "Know when you're defeated," he says.

Leo tries to park the car in a car park. But the car park is full: there are no spaces. Leo's forced to drive back out of the car park. But on the way out, he can't fit through the exit. Cars behind us are honking their horns.

This is quite fun. I'm tempted to make a joke like "This exit is tighter than James's mom's pussy" but then I remember "Be nice" and I close my mouth instead.

Eventually Leo gets the car out of the car park. Then we're back on the motorway.

"Go down there, go down there," Joe urges Leo.

So Leo goes down a dark unlit road. The car headlights reveal it's a dead end.

"Ok, my mistake," laughs Joe.

Finally, Leo finds a place to park on a side street.

I need to take a piss again, probably because of all the tap water I drank earlier.

Everyone else is already walking off towards the club.

"I just need to take a piss!" I call out.

"Okay mate!" says Leo.

I unbuckle my belt, get my willy out, and start to piss on the grass next to the road. And it's a massive piss. It's like a torrent. And the piss goes on for ages. This is not a normal piss. And somehow, despite being a 36-year-old man, I manage to splatter piss onto my legs, shorts, and sandals, like a fireman holding with a hose that's out of control.

Finally the piss comes to an end. I squeeze the last drops of urine out of my willy, buckle my shorts back up, and start to run over to my friends. But then I decide to run back to the car and memorise the car number plate in case I get lost. I don't know how memorising the car number plate will help me if I'm lost, but it's better than nothing, besides, I don't have my phone so if I do get lost I can't text anyone. Then I turn around again and run over to my friends.

"Where have you been?" asks Leo. "We've been waiting ages for you."

"I had to take a massive piss," I say.

This is explanation enough and we start walking to the club. I try to remember the car number plate and realise I've already forgotten it.

Outside the club, I walk around the pavement experimentally, trying to work out whether I'm tripping on acid or not. My conclusion is that I don't know. I'm not seeing floating eyes and Queen Victoria but the pavement is stretching off into the distance in a weird way, like it never ends.

Also, I'm feeling thirsty again. I need some water soon.

Meanwhile, the others are fretting about whether we can get into the club because Joe and I are wearing sandals and the club has a no-sandals policy.

"What do you think my chances are of just buying some shoes?" says Joe. "If I just go up to some prick and offer him a hundred euros for his shoes?"

I look down at my sandals. Then I look down the street. Then I turn 90 degrees. I turn another 90 degrees. The pavement is very perpendicular.

Finally, our other friends - Antonina, Sofia, and Quirina, and a Canadian man called Jay - arrive. They got even more lost than we did.

The club

We get into the club without any problems, despite the fact Joe and I are wearing sandals and on drugs. The club is called Club Chinois. The first thing I do is buy a can of water, which costs 10 euros. (If you're reading this from the future, then a can of water shouldn't have cost more than 2 euros back in 2023.)

I drink my can of water in the middle of the dance floor while watching people dance to the music. But there's something odd: people are dancing in synchronisation. It's as if they've all learned dance moves to the song beforehand. It's like a scene from High School Musical or a K-pop concert. This is amazing. It doesn't seem real, probably because it isn't real: it must be an LSD hallucination.

I'm standing there in the middle of the dancefloor, just looking around at everyone, when a bunch of rude young guys push their way to the front of the dancefloor. They're immaculately dressed in white shirts and tailored trousers.

When the arrogant, preening guys reach the front of the dancefloor, I wonder what's going to happen. Will there be a fight? But then suddenly, they start dancing in synchronisation with everyone else. I laugh. This is hilarious.

The music is loud so I pop my earplugs in. My earplugs are bright orange. A man next to me laughs and shouts, "IS THE MUSIC BETTER WITH EAR PLUGS?"

I nod and smile. I'm not going to bother trying to talk to him. The music's too loud for conversation.

Now I'm hearing my thoughts as if they're coming from outside of me. This is weird. It's like my thoughts are disconnected from my brain and I'm just passively listening to them. Like that one. And that one. And that one. And now there's a thought about me thinking about my thoughts. And now there's a meta-meta-thought about me thinking about myself thinking about my thoughts.

And now there's a thought saying, "Look at that man, what a loser." Oh wait, that's just James.

After a while, my back feels stiff.

"MY BACK'S STIFF," I shout to Joe.

"WELL YEAH, OF COURSE IT IS," shouts Joe. "YOU DON'T DO ANYTHING."

"WHAT DID HE SAY?" Kai asks Joe.

"HE SAYS HIS BACK'S STIFF," Joe shouts back.

Maybe I'm too old for this.

I try stretching my back around. My chest comes out, my shoulder blades go back. There are snap, crackle, and pop sounds like a bowl of Rice Krispies. My back becomes straight. I feel like a transformer turning into a robot.

Suddenly I'm not slouching anymore. I'm standing up straight. For the first time in my life, I'm standing up straight, and all it took was half a tab of LSD. I feel six feet tall. For the first time in my life, I'm not in danger of being mistaken for a lowercase 'r'. I'm a capital 'I', an exclamation mark, a human exclamation mark! Mount Everest? Pfft, call me Mount Me-everest.

I walk around the club with my newfound height, feeling like a tower. Here I am, a beacon of upright magnificence. I'm even taller than Joe now. As I look around, I might just be the tallest person in the club.

On the dancefloor, the American girl, Sofia, is dancing carefree and energetically. Her eyes are closed and she has a huge smile on her face. She's the only one out of all of us who seems to be having a good time.

You know what? I think I might join her.

"CAN YOU HOLD MY DRINK?" I shout to James.

"YEAH, NO PROBLEM," he says.

I hand him the can of water. But he says, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING GIVING ME THIS? THIS IS EMPTY! THIS IS WHAT YOU SHOULD DO WITH IT." He crushes the can in his hand. Then he hands the crushed can back to me.

Oh yeah. I suppose it was empty. But I was going to refill it in the toilets again later. That's why I was keeping it. Shit. Now I'll have to buy another can for ten euros.

Joe comes over.

"DO YOU WANT TO SLEEP TONIGHT?" shouts Joe.

In his palm is half an ecstasy pill.

I take the pill and swallow it. Sleep? Who needs sleep?

5 am

We're back at the villa. Kai is frying bacon, eggs, and tomatoes. Leo is talking about skiing. He says he goes skiing twice a year in Europe. I make conversation with him because he's the only one not on drugs and I feel bad for him. I ask him questions.

Sofia has a sketchbook full of drawings. "I found it in this cafe in Germany and they said I could have it." More likely, she found it and didn't give it back.

I want to ask Joe and Ken what they think is wrong with my brain. It's not often I'm in the presence of two incredibly intelligent people like them and they would probably know the answer, or at least work it out between them. But I don't.

Before going to bed I take half of one of the benzo pills Joe gave me to help me sleep. Then I pack my rucksack because I have a flight back home tomorrow. After I've finished packing, I feel like I need to brush my teeth before I can go to sleep, so I unpack my backpack to look for my toothbrush. I unpack my entire backpack before finally I remember my toothbrush isn't in my bag after all but in the bathroom. Whoops.

I brush my teeth, repack my backpack, and go to bed.

I fall straight asleep.