User not logged in - login - register
Home Calendar Books School Tool Photo Gallery Message Boards Users Statistics Advertise Site Info
go to bottom | |
 Message Boards » » The Telltale Weed Page [1]  
ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

TRUE! Nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The smoke had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! And observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the plant. It had never wronged me. It had never given me insult. For its ashes I had no desire. I think it was the bud! Yes, it was this! One of its buds resembled that of a vulture -- a pale green bud with purple all over it. Whenever the smell came upon me my blood ran hot, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the plant, and thus rid myself of the bud forever.

8/28/2009 8:59:43 PM

BubbleBobble
BACK IN DA HIGH LIFE
115377 Posts
user info
edit post

WHAT

8/28/2009 9:00:59 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded -- with what caution -- with what foresight, with what dissimulation, I went to work! I was never more aloof to the plant than during the whole week before I smoked it. And every night about midnight I turned the latch of this door and locked it oh, so gently! And then, when I had opened the window sufficient for my head, I pulled out a chrome lighter flicked open, open so that the gas seeped out, and then I flicked the flintwheel. Oh, you would have laughed to see how carefully I flicked it down! I rolled it slowly, very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb my roommate’s sleep. It took me a half-minute to place my flame close enough that I could see the bowl. Ha! Would a madman have been so cautious as this? And then when my flame was well in position I brought the pipe upward cautiously -- oh, so cautiously -- cautiously (for my roommate’s bedspread creaked), I raised it up just so much that that single bud could be seen over the rim. And this I did for seven long nights, every night just at midnight, but I found the courage was never there, and so it was impossible to do the work, for it was not the plant that vexed me but its purple bud. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly from my room and spoke courageously to my friends, calling them by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how they had passed the night. So you see they would have been some very profound friends, indeed , to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon the bowl as it lay.

8/28/2009 9:01:04 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in locking the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers, of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was opening the window little by little, and my roommate not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea, and perhaps he heard me, for he moved on the bed suddenly as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back -- but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness (for the blinds were drawn dim through fear of being seen from outside, and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the window, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I brought my hand in, and was about to open the lighter, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening , and my roommate sprang up in the bed, crying out, "What are you doing?"
I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole minute I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed, listening; just as I have done night after night hearkening to the death watches in the hall.

8/28/2009 9:01:52 PM

BubbleBobble
BACK IN DA HIGH LIFE
115377 Posts
user info
edit post

combo breaker

8/28/2009 9:02:35 PM

begonias
warning: not serious
19585 Posts
user info
edit post

stoooooooop

8/28/2009 9:03:06 PM

sumfoo1
soup du hier
41043 Posts
user info
edit post

this thread makes foo1s sad

8/28/2009 9:06:12 PM

Chop
All American
6271 Posts
user info
edit post

attn users with <245 posts

8/28/2009 9:07:22 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

Presently, I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of apprehension. It was not a groan of pain or of grief -- oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with breaking the law. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself, "It is nothing but the wind in the vents, it is only a cockroach crossing the floor," or, "It is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes he has been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions; but he had found all in vain. ALL IN VAIN, because fears began approaching with an army of residential advisors and police enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel, although he neither saw nor heard, to feel the presence of my bud within the room.

8/28/2009 9:08:17 PM

GenghisJohn
bonafide
10265 Posts
user info
edit post

i see what you are doing here.

8/28/2009 9:09:44 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

When I had waited a long time very patiently without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little -- a very, very little crevice in the lighter. So I opened it -- you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily -- until at length a single silent flick of the flint shot sparks onto the butane-soaked wick.

The flame was open, wide, wide open, and I grew excited as I gazed upon the bud. I saw it with perfect distinctness -- all a dull green with a beautiful purple veil over it that warmed the very marrow in my bones, but I could see nothing else of the rest of the bowl, for I had angled the pipe as if by instinct precisely upon the damned spot.

8/28/2009 9:10:50 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the senses? now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well too. It was the beating of my own damned heart. It increased my fury as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lighter motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the light upon the bud. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder, every instant. my terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! -- do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me -- the smoke might be smelled by an RA. My hour had come! With a furious gesture, I brought the pipe to my mouth and brought the flame down. I lit it once -- once only. In an instant I dragged the hit in, and blew the smoke out of my lungs. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done.

8/28/2009 9:11:16 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

But for many minutes my heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The bowl was dead. I replaced the lighter and examined the ashes. Yes, it was completely, completely cashed. I placed my finger into the ash and held it. There was no plant. It was burned up. Its bud would trouble me no more.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the piece. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence.

I took up three planks from the flooring of the room, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly so cunningly, that no human eye -- not even his -- could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out -- no stain of any kind -- no resin whatsoever. I had been too wary for that.

8/28/2009 9:11:37 PM

zxappeal
All American
26824 Posts
user info
edit post

Alrighty there, Edgar Alan Stoner...why don't you go fuck your adolescent cousin?

8/28/2009 9:11:54 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

When I had made an end of these labours, it was four o'clock -- still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the door. I went over to open it with a light heart, -- for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A puff had been smelled by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.

I smiled, -- for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The smell, I said, was only a dream. My roommmate, I noticed, had awoken from his slumber. I took my visitors all around the room. I bade them search -- search well. I led them, at length, ‘round my chamber. I showed them my treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the center, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

8/28/2009 9:12:41 PM

Raleigh_Girl
Starting Lineup
61 Posts
user info
edit post

I, too, have smoked weed and read poe.

8/28/2009 9:14:02 PM

BoBo
All American
3093 Posts
user info
edit post

They called me mad ... THEY CALLED ME MAD! ...

8/28/2009 9:15:28 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

The officers were satisfied. My MANNER had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a tickle in my nostrils; but still they sat, and still chatted. The feeling became more distinct : I talked more freely to get rid of the sense: but it continued and gained definitiveness -- until, at length, I found that the feeling was NOT an itch.

8/28/2009 9:17:07 PM

AndyMac
All American
31924 Posts
user info
edit post

yo holmes to bel-air!

8/28/2009 9:17:21 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

o doubt I now grew VERY pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sensation increased -- and what could I do? It was A LOW, STRONG, PUNGENT SMELL -- MUCH SUCH A SMELL AS A SKUNK MAKES WHEN FRIGHTENED BY A PREDATOR. I gasped for breath, and yet the officers smelled it not. I talked more quickly, more vehemently but the odor steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the stench steadily increased. Why WOULD they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men, but the smell steadily increased. O God! what COULD I do? I foamed -- I raved -- I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the stench arose over all and continually increased. It grew stronger -- stronger -- stronger! And still the men chatted pleasantly , and smiled. Was it possible they smelled not? Almighty God! -- no, no? They smelled! -- they suspected! -- they KNEW! -- they were making a mockery of my horror! -- this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! -- and now -- again -- hark! stronger! stronger! stronger! STRONGER! --

"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! -- here, here! -- it is the reek of this pungent weed!"

8/28/2009 9:17:28 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

-Edgar Allen Poe

8/28/2009 9:18:16 PM

GenghisJohn
bonafide
10265 Posts
user info
edit post

Quote :
""Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! -- here, here! -- it is the reek of this pungent weed!""


i admit, i loled heartily

8/28/2009 9:19:01 PM

HiWay58
All American
5111 Posts
user info
edit post

gg

8/28/2009 9:32:47 PM

ggBro
All American
521 Posts
user info
edit post

Bro

8/29/2009 5:55:14 AM

SaabTurbo
All American
25459 Posts
user info
edit post

Oh, I thought you were doing this at 5:55am and I was like, nice son. But then I realized it was last night.

MEH.

8/29/2009 6:57:15 AM

 Message Boards » Chit Chat » The Telltale Weed Page [1]  
go to top | |
Admin Options : move topic | lock topic

© 2025 by The Wolf Web - All Rights Reserved.
The material located at this site is not endorsed, sponsored or provided by or on behalf of North Carolina State University.
Powered by CrazyWeb v2.39 - our disclaimer.