I’ll cut to the chase: It’s a music-activated vibrator. This is from Noisey:
There really isn’t a “bounce back” after you go crazy on drugs. It’s more like a slow crawl over glass shards from the primordial soup of your brain into the high-contrast world outside. Once you’re sober, heaving in the blazing sun of crippling regret, it’s on you to evolve out of knuckle-dragging addiction and become mentally bipedal with the aid of therapies, intentional living, and the realization that life is a magical mystery forever.
Suddenly, everything becomes both a trigger and a sign. From the sound of an empty Chateau Diana bottle rolling around in the wind to a girl crying behind you on some commuter train, you’re due to receive a backlogged cache of data from the universe. Returning to the life you left behind is impossible. Repressing emotional damage with 36-hour parties, anxious hugs, and blistering gossip just doesn’t work. Since you’re ostracized from the nightlife scene anyway for doing psycho shit you don’t remember while you were fucked up, you opt to spend your time in church basements with other sober people, or alone, sobbing, practicing breathing exercises, eating Twix and watching Sailor Moon.
Eventually, your internal dialogue with the Devil disappears and so does that victim complex mirage world you’d been living in for the last seven or so years. Gone, too, are the delusions and hours-long panic attacks. Left with human size case of the sads, you push through each day like a warrior of the mundane, sporadically battling the urge to get high af and have weird experiences.
Okay, then. Read on.