Lỗi - Error 404 English Translation

Phần 3 (T118 - 123)

Around the end of 2013, I learned about the existence of a drug called Adderall. 

Through a friend of a friend of another friend, I got to know a fellow dancer of the same age, who worked as a nurse in a psychiatric hospital, and ironically, she was also severely depressed. Her name is Vicky. We got together as soon as she said "A doctor is nothing more than a drug dealer with a college degree", and we became close after realizing that they were both looking at the same psychiatrist. The friendship took place like the first day she drank alcohol at the train station, the next day she called me to the hospital and faked a prescription for my medicine. 

Anything is available, from a cough medicine to a purple drink, to a high dose pain reliever just for the endangered patients, but our favorite is Adderall.

Use it correctly - Adderall is an antagonist, use it for us - it's a meth. Cerebral hyperactivity patients cannot focus on one thing, they drink Adderall to be able to function at the speed of a normal person, and we - two normal people - drink Adderall to be active. with the speed of a superman. Vicky used Adderall to work as a nurse sixteen hours a day to feed her and the disabled old man at home, to go to overtime on the weekends, to have strength but also to smile every time she went out. As for me, there really is no plausible reason (if already addicted, then whatever reason is "addiction to presentation"). And honestly, to be honest, there's no real reason in the world for playing rock. Play is play. 

In the early days with Adderall, life was wonderful. For the first time, long ago, I was the one who took control of my life. Study five days in a row without sleep, like a valedictorian. The body was so light that the stomach disappeared, losing more weight. 

Participating in community activities, captain of all teams, winning on all fronts, I just kept going up and down to get what I thought I deserved belonged to myself. My previous life pushed me from side to side, now whatever! I'm calm, I'm confident, I can hear the pee of my neighbor next to me. The moon is nicer, life is better, I feel a lot, a lot, and it gives me too much, too much than I want. So long ago, really just a single sun melted me, but now Adderall pulled the sun down, jumped upwards, shone the magnifying glass between me into a dot, and I vanished into warmth.

But this is page 26 of the 50-volume life story.

It slowly, slowly turns into an obsession. Medicines grease very quickly, two tablets, ten tablets, then twenty tablets. Right now, again, again. I ran so fast on a sunny road that I forgot how fast the sun was, the darkness always sat at the stop waiting for me. I started losing time. I even bought nice home decor carpet. I am a new person. One-person-another. Adderall made me paranoid. There were nights when I woke up on the floor, time passed the next day, completely missing the day before. Black out. It took two days. Black out again, takes a week. Black out, hours, days, weeks, what's the difference? 

I, was bad. Me and Vicky, the worst of the bad, the worst people on earth, the worst of life. It's okay to drink it, I'm here. No matter what they do, it will be calculated later. Who am I to argue with the nurse? 

We stayed up together until the tenth day without a single second nap. Due to medicine, not sleeping, I don't know, I started having the first episodes of psychosis. I see people walking around the house. I heard a whisper. I can swear the television in the next room has a cable off but is still on, otherwise what are these squeaks? But the human brain is so good that it always has a dumb explanation ready for complicated questions: I thought I was a real superman, and all the silhouettes, walking, talking This, it's always there, and I'm special, I'm the chosen one, so I feel them, because only I understand what my shadow really is.

Three months after taking Adderall (and not to mention the other drugs), Vicky and I took off our sandals, carried them in our hands, walked in the middle of the street in the dark, since we thought we were being watched by the FBI, so we had to quietly only, gently, slowly. 

Vicky started jumping up with all of this. Every time the phone rang, it confirmed that our house was bugged, and we were about to be arrested, sometimes thinking I was a whistleblower, and almost slapping a colleague for still picking up the phone at the hospital. Listen when she screams.

I shrugged, and started talking, talking about everything and about nothing, with people only I could see.

The story of the two superheroes ends on a full moon night, when I was drinking my second vodka bottle, Vicky was watching the moon on the window sill. Suddenly she screamed, saying that the moon is getting bigger, can you see it, it was so big and terrible, it was about to crash here. God, it's not the moon, it's a spaceship, the alien coming, attack, take us, GG, we gotta go, go now, no matter where to go, just go run already. She jumped through the first floor window in the back of the house, and disappeared.

Two days later, the police found Vicky, and she was no longer Vicky.

I - after visiting Vicky at the very same psychiatric ward she used to work at, seeing that she was all hair, whites of eyes and drool - could not return to me.