Retired expert. Help me remember.

[Lightweight]

I absolutely loved to hallucinate and then and grew up and had to get my act together settled down had babies all that good stuff but I miss the COLORS sooo bad I can't even put it into words and the memories get buried more and more each day I cant go back there but will someone remind me help me feel it again....... xoxo I think of you always

 

[KingoDJ]

just read thru all these reports fella, they make me smile everyday with teh crazy experiences people have, the beautifuil ones, the funny pones and some just straight out scary ones! if youve got ag ood enbough head on you, its very easy to imagine yourself as the writer of the threads. read read read its the best thing you can do to relive what you once had

 

[Lightweight]

My problem is I love to write it helps me remember ....... will people read my story?

 

[Jinux]

Absolutely. Write it and we will read

 

[Seattle_Stranger]

Meditate!

 

[psood0nym]

Oh man, drugs are the best. Better than you can ever dream from the vantage of your living nightmare as a working family man. It's so good to be a drug user it makes me want to cry. Just the other day I railed some K and hit the DMT pipe and was whisked away to an enchanted land where it rained birth control pills and all the leaves on all the trees were replaced with welfare checks. Bitchy wives with dead eyes rode in rickshaws making their leather bound briefcase toting husband's necks raw with incessant strikes of their horse whips, and from within the life affirming vision I was overcome with a deep abiding contentment, lit up another joint, and just laughed and laughed.

This doing it for ya?

 

[jackie jones]

This is better suited for Words. I am going to send it over there.

 

[panic in paradise]

Absolutely. Write it and we will read

Thats the attitude !

at the shores cliff-side, she stood waiting - her tears met the ocean, the same as always

at the way's side, he hesitated, then fallowed the current home -
this story has been written.

the same as pages falling in a book, black ink on white paper - all remains unjust until, both sides meet again - give words life, you are the reader.


~
Sirius Star You are the lust of the wanderer
And what wonders lust lives for

The guise of the essence eternal
That need only to pass through

The stary blue river
Of near black hue
Only as apparent as
When noon melds into midnight
Allowing pace amongst all

Beyond where thoughts find place
Amongst an eternal point
And the soul finds peace
In each passage of trined triple-fold binds - shattered illusions
Un Bound
The spirit to remain in its ethereal
Position
Amongst waves of light made of soft sound.

 

[Jinux]

Thats the attitude !

at the shores cliff-side, she stood waiting - her tears met the ocean, the same as always

at the way's side, he hesitated, then fallowed the current home -
this story has been written.

the same as pages falling in a book, black ink on white paper - all remains unjust until, both sides meet again - give words life, you are the reader.


~
Sirius Star You are the lust of the wanderer
And what wonders lust lives for

The guise of the essence eternal
That need only to pass through

The stary blue river
Of near black hue
Only as apparent as
When noon melds into midnight
Allowing pace amongst all

Beyond where thoughts find place
Amongst an eternal point
And the soul finds peace
In each passage of trined triple-fold binds - shattered illusions
Un Bound
The spirit to remain in its ethereal
Position
Amongst waves of light made of soft sound.

+1
Continue

 

[panic in paradise]

+1
Continue

okay !


Between Pandora-Maya & Fear
Lies a three headed serpent -
of which one mouth holds greed one mouth holds lust,
and in another,
is loneliness.

 

[Kerrigan]

Of the psychotropic substances, psychedelics are the Sphinx.
Forever mystical and magical, colourful and whimsical
But on many occasion, terrible.
Far moreso excitingly frightening and potentially worse, tho', than any of this hastily tapped out tiny witless verse, hoho.

I, too, long to remember those happy days in warm Septembers with new friends and week-long benders; all in a daze and a blur of colour with kisses and the scent of autumn meeting summer (and perhaps me getting dumber, with every next pill: a blanket wrapped o'er, a fire I couldn't put out, so best for lack of motivation cover it, push it aside an' try to ignore it). But behind that and behind the blinds of my bathroom, I sit with legs crossed on the floor with a syringe, fingers trembling, needle pointed and commanding: "stab here and I'll be so, so very rewarding", and there it is, a pinch with a pull and cloud of crimson blood; nothing really can express that sensation, I'm not sure if I could, verbally, describe just how it flows into the barrel and my heart skips a beat with anticipation rising anxiously to the climax as the plunger then slides down, down, down and, for a moment, nothing.
Then everything. And joy. Euphoria's eruption spreading hot molten delight through my vascular system, and truly nothing else matters to me, especially not rhymes or reason or anything: I'm floating upon a cloud of poppies and it's very wonderfully important to me, right at that moment, that nobody knock me off it.

But after a time and life lessons and that dry, dull nonsense I learned I had to step off it, and well, I've never felt the same...

I remember a lot about those summers and the first time I fell in love with a person and the first time I fell in love with a drug. Some things are just too important to forget, and colourful fun filled frolicking fetched forth fr'm fabulous-'cid faithfully; factually, well, ought to be one of those feelings you ne'er forget.

"Miaow" said the man, staring at his cat.

 

[panic in paradise]

+1
Continue