On Friday, I was taking a leak only to casually (and pleasantly) find that my problem has pretty much resolved itself of its own volition, or is, at the very least, in the final stages of making a full recovery. To celebrate, in the heat of the moment, I immediately consumed the remaining three tabs (I bought five before the last trip).
I listened to Clapton's "Hello Old Friend" (because the lyrics fit so well!) and Frampton's "Do You Feel Like I Do?" (because I always listen to that song when I have something to be happy about) off my laptop. It was around 11:15 AM, and because I generally don’t eat lunch and my stomach was empty, I began to feel it quicker than usual… quicker than every other trip I’ve ever had, anyway. I was feeling it at a desk in one of the study areas littered across my campus. It was like an insect. That’s the best way I can relate to having felt it. But nothing ugly, monstrous, or otherwise intimidating; it was majestic and exotic, the kind that you just can’t help but look at and admire for its dazzling, colorful beauty and grace. A being that, no matter what happened to one, or what might happen to one in the chaotic tides of the future, causes that same one simply to pause and bow with grudging respect at the feet of the Creator whom deigned it. It did little tricks, this butterfly. It put on a show, just for me, because we both knew that I was the only one who would ever truly be able to appreciate it. The colors on its wings seemed to have lives all their own. Cautiously, they danced away from the main body of the creature, and then lingered in the air, like I was being given a choice and a memory at the same time.
When it was done, the creature came right up to me, and got close enough, and deep enough, that it melded with my heart, and I couldn’t see it anymore. All the same, it left something behind. The celestial cocoon that had been laid within me hatched almost immediately, and the only perception of time I had was because I kept looking at a digital clock on the corner of my computer screen.
I had to keep looking at that, because in spite of all the lushness, the safety, and the understanding, I still had a bus to catch. Thankfully, I was able to do that without much trouble, and all the shaking and general weirdness that I was showing off along the way was passed off and dismissed because of what I am (already covered). There are two main aspects of the trip that followed, the first being good, and the second, not so much. The first was the literal trip home; without going into too much unnecessary detail, I was right by a window, and the regular grind that usually defines the common existence of society became my own personal revelation. Traffic was not traffic. Traffic did not go east or west. Not even up or down. There wasn’t such a thing as congestion anymore. It was all just lights. Thousands of lights, against the white of the snow, illuminating like I had just died at some candlelight vigil was being held in my honor. At the same time, it was stronger than individual little sparks. Just like the euphoria, the light came in waves, grew into something more consistent, and then ended in waves. Exactly like life itself. Above me, and below me, there were beams of light, and the warmth of all of them shot straight into my soul.
I was riding on a beam of light, and for the next hour, I didn’t need a body to do it. The bad part?
Two hours after I left my campus, things went really, really fucked up over there.
www.thestar.com/News/GTA/article/301809
It’s not Monday yet, so nobody can really tell for sure what happened, but since I lot of people I know didn’t know I was home, I was swamped with calls from folks who thought I was caught in a school with some shotgun-wielding maniac. I appreciate where they were coming from, but it still wasn’t a fun experience to have to keep myself together like that so constantly. Then, I couldn’t stop thinking about when it started, and how if I was there for just two hours more, I would've been tripping while actually under the sober impression that a guy with a fucking shotgun is going to fucking kill me. I can’t imagine that would’ve ended well if I was actually there. Even though I wasn’t there, and even though it turned out to be nothing anyway, it didn’t do wonders for my state of mind at the time, to say the least.
Every time I trip, it seems, something happens to try and unhinge me. To make me regret the whole thing. Maybe it makes me stupid, or maybe it makes me a coward, but I just can’t allow myself to do that. I’ve spent my life being weak and ineffectual. LSD doesn’t change anything, but what it does do is help me remember that nothing needs to change. It makes my problems feel small, because it makes me feel small. Like a drop in the ocean. But every drop had to come from somewhere, didn’t it? We all came from the same sky, and when we evaporate, we’ll all vanish into the same air. It makes me feel inconsequential, but in the best way possible. Every little bit helps, so it doesn’t matter if I end up accomplishing a little or a lot, as long as I do my best to not be a drain. There’s no point in stressing over small things, because the harmony of the bigger picture is too compelling not to demand one’s full attention.
No surprises this time, either, so that was an added bonus.
substancecode_LSD
methodcode_oral
I listened to Clapton's "Hello Old Friend" (because the lyrics fit so well!) and Frampton's "Do You Feel Like I Do?" (because I always listen to that song when I have something to be happy about) off my laptop. It was around 11:15 AM, and because I generally don’t eat lunch and my stomach was empty, I began to feel it quicker than usual… quicker than every other trip I’ve ever had, anyway. I was feeling it at a desk in one of the study areas littered across my campus. It was like an insect. That’s the best way I can relate to having felt it. But nothing ugly, monstrous, or otherwise intimidating; it was majestic and exotic, the kind that you just can’t help but look at and admire for its dazzling, colorful beauty and grace. A being that, no matter what happened to one, or what might happen to one in the chaotic tides of the future, causes that same one simply to pause and bow with grudging respect at the feet of the Creator whom deigned it. It did little tricks, this butterfly. It put on a show, just for me, because we both knew that I was the only one who would ever truly be able to appreciate it. The colors on its wings seemed to have lives all their own. Cautiously, they danced away from the main body of the creature, and then lingered in the air, like I was being given a choice and a memory at the same time.
When it was done, the creature came right up to me, and got close enough, and deep enough, that it melded with my heart, and I couldn’t see it anymore. All the same, it left something behind. The celestial cocoon that had been laid within me hatched almost immediately, and the only perception of time I had was because I kept looking at a digital clock on the corner of my computer screen.
I had to keep looking at that, because in spite of all the lushness, the safety, and the understanding, I still had a bus to catch. Thankfully, I was able to do that without much trouble, and all the shaking and general weirdness that I was showing off along the way was passed off and dismissed because of what I am (already covered). There are two main aspects of the trip that followed, the first being good, and the second, not so much. The first was the literal trip home; without going into too much unnecessary detail, I was right by a window, and the regular grind that usually defines the common existence of society became my own personal revelation. Traffic was not traffic. Traffic did not go east or west. Not even up or down. There wasn’t such a thing as congestion anymore. It was all just lights. Thousands of lights, against the white of the snow, illuminating like I had just died at some candlelight vigil was being held in my honor. At the same time, it was stronger than individual little sparks. Just like the euphoria, the light came in waves, grew into something more consistent, and then ended in waves. Exactly like life itself. Above me, and below me, there were beams of light, and the warmth of all of them shot straight into my soul.
I was riding on a beam of light, and for the next hour, I didn’t need a body to do it. The bad part?
Two hours after I left my campus, things went really, really fucked up over there.
www.thestar.com/News/GTA/article/301809
It’s not Monday yet, so nobody can really tell for sure what happened, but since I lot of people I know didn’t know I was home, I was swamped with calls from folks who thought I was caught in a school with some shotgun-wielding maniac. I appreciate where they were coming from, but it still wasn’t a fun experience to have to keep myself together like that so constantly. Then, I couldn’t stop thinking about when it started, and how if I was there for just two hours more, I would've been tripping while actually under the sober impression that a guy with a fucking shotgun is going to fucking kill me. I can’t imagine that would’ve ended well if I was actually there. Even though I wasn’t there, and even though it turned out to be nothing anyway, it didn’t do wonders for my state of mind at the time, to say the least.
Every time I trip, it seems, something happens to try and unhinge me. To make me regret the whole thing. Maybe it makes me stupid, or maybe it makes me a coward, but I just can’t allow myself to do that. I’ve spent my life being weak and ineffectual. LSD doesn’t change anything, but what it does do is help me remember that nothing needs to change. It makes my problems feel small, because it makes me feel small. Like a drop in the ocean. But every drop had to come from somewhere, didn’t it? We all came from the same sky, and when we evaporate, we’ll all vanish into the same air. It makes me feel inconsequential, but in the best way possible. Every little bit helps, so it doesn’t matter if I end up accomplishing a little or a lot, as long as I do my best to not be a drain. There’s no point in stressing over small things, because the harmony of the bigger picture is too compelling not to demand one’s full attention.
No surprises this time, either, so that was an added bonus.
substancecode_LSD
methodcode_oral
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![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
). Everybody who posts here has to know this on some level already, or else, quite frankly, they wouldn't be posting here.
