Monday, September 01, 2003

The Warzone Festival and the Come Down From Hell

Warzone FlyerThe warzone festival in belfast was really good, at least untill well into the sunday night, when i got real fucked up on what i dont know. I remember sitting on the table in the Cafe, I thought there were flashes coming from my camera in my pocket, i checked and it was off, but i was convinced it was flashing to tell me the battery was dead or to take photos, I tried to take photos but couldnt; everything was intimadating me. I remember watching the break dancing and skateboarding and feeling like i was outside of my body looking on, at these events with no control. Earlier in the nite i was just running around hyper, buzzing off people, then shit got wierd. There was a time when sarah handed me a can of cider and i nearly let it drop because i thought it could float by itself, i could see stars in the ceiling of the Warzone, and dont know what was real or not. Can remember a friend shouting at me, i rang him, apparently it didnt happen. I remember hugging sarahs mate who was meant to drop by the festival; she never did drop by. Remember saying real crazy shit to her, apparently she said i didnt. I was sharing drinks with people all night, which in retrospect was a real tit of a thing to do, maybe i should have listened to my ma more. Hence why I've been asking on Eirecore about the pills and spiked joints and drinks. Whatever it was, it was going through my system with two and a half bottles of buckfast, that vodka, hackler that was been passed around, a flagon and cans of cider and god knows what else, never mind all the spliffs, never mind the shit from the previous days.

I remember there was a Belfast girl in the toilet, I skipped the Q to vomit after someone gave me a slug of some straight hackler. I apoligised to her and her friend, then got ranting about the weekend as you do. We got talking about drugs and I said i was just drinking but earlier had planned on stopping drinking and maybe doing a pill, having never done one before properly, as the evening progressed I just drank; then she told me she was going to kiss me and i wasnt to kiss back or do anything; just to let her kiss me. Been fucked drunk i let her. May have been then shit went array, you know passing whatever on through her mouth; i think thats what happened, as some people had said there was a dealer in the toilet, belfast girl with red hair on Saturday night...think that was her. The whole thing really fucked up my head, getting the train from amsterdam to brussels i could hear hardcore bands in my head, other passengers were out to kill me, was consumed with paronia, the plane was a fucking tortorous affair, didnt think i was ever going to feel normality again. Really felt like I needed a hospital. I kept having panic attacks, felt like screaming out for no other reason than being terrified. Even the first nite in the Leuven squat, the graffiti on the walls looked real menacing as i tried to sleep, some parts of the arsen gig made me feel like running outside they were so frightening.

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Soundtracksforthem specialises in iconoclastic takes on culture, politics, and more shite from the underbelly of your keyboard. A still-born group blog with a recent surge of different contributers but mainly maintained by James R. Big up all the contributers and posse regardless of churn out rate: Kyle Browne, Reeuq, Cogsy, Chief, X-ie phader/Krossie, Howard Devoto, Dara, Ronan and Mark Furlong. Send your wishes and aspirations to

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