ForEverAfter
Ex-Bluelighter
1:00 pm
I wake up and take two mushroom gelcaps. Approximately 0.65 grams, dried P. Subs total. A threshold dose. I'm hungry. There's nothing to eat in the house.
1:30 pm
I smoke a joint waiting for the bus.
2:30 pm
Wandering around the shopping center tripping. The caps were above average weight. Definitely not a threshold dose. More like a gram. I miss the bus going home. Carrying somewhere in the vicinity of thirty kilograms of shopping. I sit down at the bus stop, facing a church. A couple of well manicured guys come out, typical Christian types. They look down at me. I'm wearing a pair of black tights that make crotch bulge. The good-Christian men do not approve.
I'm fucking exhausted. Starving, tired, thirsty. It's got to be at least 35 degrees. I feel like I'm going to pass out. I pull a bottle of milk from one of the shopping bags. As I drink, waves of sensation spread throughout my face and chest. It feels like the milk is bypassing my stomach and being absorbed directly through my gums and throat. Like there's not enough time for normal digestion. After drinking about half a litre, I no longer feel like I'm going to die.
A girl, around my age, comes out of the church. She's overweight but she's cute. Curly hair, nice face. Big set of tits. I check her out properly. I make sure she notices me looking at her. Trailing my gaze up from her thighs, past her cleavage, to her face. We make eye contact as she walks past. She blushes. The attention is unexpected. She likes it. I watch her ass, wagging back and forth under her dress, as she walks away. My mind full of pornographic images. Me and her in every position imagineable. I have to stop before I get an erection. Clear my mind. Focus on the music. I change the song, to an up-tempo Cat Empire number. The bus arrives.
An old fat woman on the bus is glaring at me. Staring horrified at my crotch. She makes sure I see her looking so that I know she disapproves and, conseqeuntly, feel ashamed. I feel like calling her on it. Teaching her a lesson. Telling her that it's not her place to judge. She looks like a church type. And here she is blatantly committing two sins. Judging others and gluttony. And those are just the two on the surface. I want to say all of this to her, but I don't. I realize that I am judging her for judging me. This negativity that I feel towards her, is unnecessary.
I feel sorry for her, suddenly. This miserable old woman, fighting a losing battle against the ever-changing world. Judging others in order to re-affirm her own concept of morality. Her world, decades removed from the present. I don't judge her. There is no hostility. I empathize.
3:30 pm
Back home, I cut a grapefruit into quarters and devour it with carniverous enthusiasm. The good-Christian girl returns to haunt me. Her naked tits. Her sticky dripping wet cunt. I want to fuck her. Corrupt her. Take something good and wholesome, and turn it upside down. Church girls are hornier than usual, from my experience. There's two reasons for this, as far as I can see. The first is the obvious one. Repression. The whole catholic girl syndrome. The second is more complicated.
God approves of sex. Most Christian girls don't go for the whole no sex out of wedlock shit. If you believe in God, you believe that God made us. Our bones, our skin, our nipples. The human body is not only a thing of beauty. It is also divine. There are a lot of things you can't do, according to modern Christian-theology. The ten commandments says thou shall not steal, kill or cheat. These are just common sense. Christian or not, people know that theft, murder and adultery are sins. Christians, from my observations, don't commit these sins very often. But there are three commandments that are constantly neglected, within the church.
The first, and most neglected, is thou shall not be envious. It is commonly known as thou shall not covet they neighbours wife, but there's more to it than that. It is a sin to covet anything. To be envious of someone who is better looking than you; envious of someone happier than you; younger; richer. A poor man, who is starving to death, should not envy a rich man. Christian people know this, but they do it anyway. Openly, blatantly. It's one of those justifiable sins. For the most part they are unaware - on a conscious level - that they are defying God. Maybe they feel a little guilty from time to time. Probably not.
The second is thou shall not lie. Everybody lies all the time. Christian or not. Christians are more likely to feel guilty about it. It is not as justifiable a sin as envy. The third, is committed more by the church than by individual people.
It is a sin to paint angels. The church has, for centuries, hired artists to paint images of God and heaven. Stain glassed windows are full of these imaginings. The second commandment says, "Thou shalt not make thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above." In other words, the Sistine chapel is blasphemous. Cemeteries are littered with statues of angels. This, according to the Old Testament, is in direct defiance of God. These winged humanoid figures we've grown to associate with the cherubim. These images and sculptures, born from limited imaginations. Like science fiction aliens with human figures and big eyes. They are not authentic. They are misleading. They distract man from the true nature of God. The church doesn't seem to care about this commandment. Nobody does.
My point is that there's not a lot that good-Christian people can do without feeling guilty about it, on either a conscious or sub-conscious level. Sex is an exception. Christian girls are free to indulge in the flesh, in moderation. They are not be able to lie, steal, cheat or be envious so they make up for it by fucking extra hard; fucking being in accordance with God's will.
I'm going to church tomorrow morning. It will be the first time I have ever voluntarily stepped foot inside a church. I was planning on taking a bunch of mushrooms and going to the one around the corner. Now, I'm thinking of going to her church. Talking to her. Charming her. Getting into her pants.
5:00 pm
I cut a segment of San Pedro cactus, weighing 567 grams. I attempt to remove the skin and core. The latter proves to be too difficult. I cut my hands in numerous places on the barbs during the process. Discarding the skin, I re-weigh. 275 grams.
I make a salad. One Lebanese cucumber. One tomato. Quarter of a head of iceberg lettuce. I cut the top off the lettuce. The inside looks like the cross section of a brain. I am very much aware that what I'm eating was once a living thing. Sub-consciously, I am saying grace; thanking God for the lettuce, and thanking the lettuce for it's life.
The salad fills two large bowls.
5:15 pm
It tastes really good. Particularly the combination of tomato and cactus. I don't have any difficulty whatsoever consuming it. Halfway through consumption, I start to notice the effects. My stomach is bloated and tight. Warm waves of sensation spreading throughout my body. The pre-cursor to sedation. I take two more mushroom gelcaps.
5:30 pm
The cactus has very strong physical effects. My muscles are weak. My legs feel like they want to collapse out under me as I walk around the house. My eyes want to close. I have to concentrate so I don't collapse into a heap on the floorboards, and go to sleep. I get through one and a half bowls of salad and put the rest in the fridge for later. I eat until I cannot eat anymore. Warmth continuting to spread through my body and soul. My heart-rate has slowed down significantly. I keep drifting off into a harmonious trance-like state. It is hard to stay awake.
5:45 pm
I turn on some Johnny Cash.
6:00 pm
I smoke two joints, one after the other. The sedative effects of the cactus are increasing. Smoking so slowly the joints go out every time I take a puff. Relight each one about twenty times. Staring out at the horizon. The tops of trees have light blue auras; floral haloes.
6:20 pm
It's difficult to keep my head up. It keeps rolling to the side. It's too heavy to suspend. Better to rest it on my shoulder. The screen is sideways as I type this.
8:30 pm
The sedative effect is gone. It lasts for about an hour after ingestion, during the initial digestive phase. There is now enough room in my stomach to continue with the dose.
Cactus (350 grams) minus skin (105 grams) minus core (45 grams) = 200 grams. I make a new salad, combining the remainder from the last batch with a tomato, a red chili, another quarter iceberg plus the additional 200 grams. Total weight of cacti in salads = 475 grams.
The tomato is a little rotten on the inside. I decide to eat it anyway. I don't use a cutting board. I chop up the salad on the table outside. I can see bits of dirt in it as I'm eating. The chili gives the meal a nice little kick. The sedative sensation comes back after a couple of bites. Within five minutes I feel sleepy. Warm sensations carressing me.
The mescaline has not gotten to a high level yet. I estimate I will need to consume somewhere in the vicinity of 700-800 grams to achieve the desired effect. Probably more due to the lengthy intervals between doses. I have an estimated 325 grams remaining. Assuming I eat the rest of my Pedro by the end of the night, I will reach the 800 mark.
I eat half the salad. Again, I eat until I can't eat anymore. I am bloated. My stomach has gone from concave to convex. It is sticking out, past my ribcage. I put the rest in the fridge for later.
9:15 pm
The hallucinations are getting pretty strong. I eat two more mushrooms gelcaps and smoke a joint while watching the season finale of Dexter.
11:15 pm
I eat the rest of the salad, with another two gelcaps. The warm sensations lasting longer now. Feels like I'm in a hot bath.
1:00 am
I have another two gelcaps and go out on the balcony to smoke a joint. I can see the air. It is dancing. Tiny 3-dimensional luminescent entities, circling each other. Blending together into new entities. Like galaxies being formed. Breaking apart. Shifting partners. Reforming. The air is always moving. It dances like this every second of every day. This invisible miracle. I connect to the universe. Not to the planet. There is no distinction between things and spaces between them. In space, life exists. Life is ever-present.
Little is known about dark matter. In astronomy, we see the things not the space in between them. Same goes for the planet. We, as a species, are equipped to percieve only what is necessary for our survival. While global cognitive perception is expanding, we can still only physically see a small percentage of what is really out there. A tiny fraction of the universe.
People wonder if there's life out there, somewhere. But, it is everywhere. There is life between the earth and the moon just as there is life between a bird and the ground below. This space is not vacant. Birds can see ultra-violet spectrums. We cannot. But we know they exist.
The fabric of the universe is beyond our comprehension. Blood cells are not aware of the body they inhabit. Such awareness is entirely irrelevant to their existence.
If you were born on an atom and you built a spaceship, launching yourself into space, you wouldn't find anything aside from other atoms. There would never be a moment when you realized that you were part of something infinitely larger than yourself; never realizing that the atoms are all tiny pieces of a giant incomprehensible puzzle.
It's easy not to believe in God; try explaining the colour purple to a mole.
I believe in a series of dimensions, to which there is no end. The largest thing we are aware of is the universe. The smallest thing, sub-atomic particles. But that doesn't mean it ends there. What we can see and what we know is a fraction of what is. There are things larger than the universe and things smaller than sub-atomic particles. What we can see is abritray; confined by our limited perspective, and determined by phsiological needs.
Gods have their own Gods; it doesn't matter how big you are, there is always something bigger. Something beyond your comprehension. There must be. Everything we know is infinite. Death is not an end, it is a reworking of material. Dead flesh scattered across the world. Recycled into other organisms. When a star explodes, it doesn't cease to exist. It multiplies.
There's a dead rat on my balcony. My cat killed it. I left it there so flies could lay eggs in it and wasps, eat it. It's been there for a couple of days now. Most of it is gone. Some into my cat's stomach. Other bits into the stomachs of a thousand wasps. What once was rat matter, is now flie larvae. This carcass will give birth to hundreds of tiny flies. Those flies will scatter and lay eggs of their own. Some of them will be eaten. The wasps too. What was once just a rat becomes exponentially greater with every generation.
I found a dead possum on the road out the front of my house. It was fresh, and in good condition, so I picked it up by the tail and brought it home for my cats. They were overjoyed. I don't think they've eaten possum before. Sweetheart ripped out it's throat. They took turns eating until the only bits left were organs. The intestines splayed out like a string of tiny sausage links. I picked it up by the tail and put it out the front, by the bins, for the insects. This was a better way for it to die, rather than being scraped up off the ground and buried somewhere. It fed three cats and thousands of insects instead of just worms. When I die I want to be thrown to wild animals. Lions would be nice. It should be an option. I don't want my physical re-incarnations to be delayed by a coffin. I want my death to mean something to another sentient animal. I want to be devoured by a magnificent animal, rather than being turned straight into worm food. The worms can have what's left of me.
2:20 am
There's a vine climbing my balcony. It's reaching out towards the house. Long twisted stems under my feet. They bloomed today. Two passionflowers, resting against the floorboards. Beautiful complex exotic flora. I smoke another joint. My head is growing weary. I kneel down beside the vine and let my eyes adjust to the moonlight. I stay there for a while, my eyes half open; the cactus, putting me to sleep. I stay there, gazing at the passionflowers.
I wake up and take two mushroom gelcaps. Approximately 0.65 grams, dried P. Subs total. A threshold dose. I'm hungry. There's nothing to eat in the house.
1:30 pm
I smoke a joint waiting for the bus.
2:30 pm
Wandering around the shopping center tripping. The caps were above average weight. Definitely not a threshold dose. More like a gram. I miss the bus going home. Carrying somewhere in the vicinity of thirty kilograms of shopping. I sit down at the bus stop, facing a church. A couple of well manicured guys come out, typical Christian types. They look down at me. I'm wearing a pair of black tights that make crotch bulge. The good-Christian men do not approve.
I'm fucking exhausted. Starving, tired, thirsty. It's got to be at least 35 degrees. I feel like I'm going to pass out. I pull a bottle of milk from one of the shopping bags. As I drink, waves of sensation spread throughout my face and chest. It feels like the milk is bypassing my stomach and being absorbed directly through my gums and throat. Like there's not enough time for normal digestion. After drinking about half a litre, I no longer feel like I'm going to die.
A girl, around my age, comes out of the church. She's overweight but she's cute. Curly hair, nice face. Big set of tits. I check her out properly. I make sure she notices me looking at her. Trailing my gaze up from her thighs, past her cleavage, to her face. We make eye contact as she walks past. She blushes. The attention is unexpected. She likes it. I watch her ass, wagging back and forth under her dress, as she walks away. My mind full of pornographic images. Me and her in every position imagineable. I have to stop before I get an erection. Clear my mind. Focus on the music. I change the song, to an up-tempo Cat Empire number. The bus arrives.
An old fat woman on the bus is glaring at me. Staring horrified at my crotch. She makes sure I see her looking so that I know she disapproves and, conseqeuntly, feel ashamed. I feel like calling her on it. Teaching her a lesson. Telling her that it's not her place to judge. She looks like a church type. And here she is blatantly committing two sins. Judging others and gluttony. And those are just the two on the surface. I want to say all of this to her, but I don't. I realize that I am judging her for judging me. This negativity that I feel towards her, is unnecessary.
I feel sorry for her, suddenly. This miserable old woman, fighting a losing battle against the ever-changing world. Judging others in order to re-affirm her own concept of morality. Her world, decades removed from the present. I don't judge her. There is no hostility. I empathize.
3:30 pm
Back home, I cut a grapefruit into quarters and devour it with carniverous enthusiasm. The good-Christian girl returns to haunt me. Her naked tits. Her sticky dripping wet cunt. I want to fuck her. Corrupt her. Take something good and wholesome, and turn it upside down. Church girls are hornier than usual, from my experience. There's two reasons for this, as far as I can see. The first is the obvious one. Repression. The whole catholic girl syndrome. The second is more complicated.
God approves of sex. Most Christian girls don't go for the whole no sex out of wedlock shit. If you believe in God, you believe that God made us. Our bones, our skin, our nipples. The human body is not only a thing of beauty. It is also divine. There are a lot of things you can't do, according to modern Christian-theology. The ten commandments says thou shall not steal, kill or cheat. These are just common sense. Christian or not, people know that theft, murder and adultery are sins. Christians, from my observations, don't commit these sins very often. But there are three commandments that are constantly neglected, within the church.
The first, and most neglected, is thou shall not be envious. It is commonly known as thou shall not covet they neighbours wife, but there's more to it than that. It is a sin to covet anything. To be envious of someone who is better looking than you; envious of someone happier than you; younger; richer. A poor man, who is starving to death, should not envy a rich man. Christian people know this, but they do it anyway. Openly, blatantly. It's one of those justifiable sins. For the most part they are unaware - on a conscious level - that they are defying God. Maybe they feel a little guilty from time to time. Probably not.
The second is thou shall not lie. Everybody lies all the time. Christian or not. Christians are more likely to feel guilty about it. It is not as justifiable a sin as envy. The third, is committed more by the church than by individual people.
It is a sin to paint angels. The church has, for centuries, hired artists to paint images of God and heaven. Stain glassed windows are full of these imaginings. The second commandment says, "Thou shalt not make thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above." In other words, the Sistine chapel is blasphemous. Cemeteries are littered with statues of angels. This, according to the Old Testament, is in direct defiance of God. These winged humanoid figures we've grown to associate with the cherubim. These images and sculptures, born from limited imaginations. Like science fiction aliens with human figures and big eyes. They are not authentic. They are misleading. They distract man from the true nature of God. The church doesn't seem to care about this commandment. Nobody does.
My point is that there's not a lot that good-Christian people can do without feeling guilty about it, on either a conscious or sub-conscious level. Sex is an exception. Christian girls are free to indulge in the flesh, in moderation. They are not be able to lie, steal, cheat or be envious so they make up for it by fucking extra hard; fucking being in accordance with God's will.
I'm going to church tomorrow morning. It will be the first time I have ever voluntarily stepped foot inside a church. I was planning on taking a bunch of mushrooms and going to the one around the corner. Now, I'm thinking of going to her church. Talking to her. Charming her. Getting into her pants.
5:00 pm
I cut a segment of San Pedro cactus, weighing 567 grams. I attempt to remove the skin and core. The latter proves to be too difficult. I cut my hands in numerous places on the barbs during the process. Discarding the skin, I re-weigh. 275 grams.
I make a salad. One Lebanese cucumber. One tomato. Quarter of a head of iceberg lettuce. I cut the top off the lettuce. The inside looks like the cross section of a brain. I am very much aware that what I'm eating was once a living thing. Sub-consciously, I am saying grace; thanking God for the lettuce, and thanking the lettuce for it's life.
The salad fills two large bowls.
5:15 pm
It tastes really good. Particularly the combination of tomato and cactus. I don't have any difficulty whatsoever consuming it. Halfway through consumption, I start to notice the effects. My stomach is bloated and tight. Warm waves of sensation spreading throughout my body. The pre-cursor to sedation. I take two more mushroom gelcaps.
5:30 pm
The cactus has very strong physical effects. My muscles are weak. My legs feel like they want to collapse out under me as I walk around the house. My eyes want to close. I have to concentrate so I don't collapse into a heap on the floorboards, and go to sleep. I get through one and a half bowls of salad and put the rest in the fridge for later. I eat until I cannot eat anymore. Warmth continuting to spread through my body and soul. My heart-rate has slowed down significantly. I keep drifting off into a harmonious trance-like state. It is hard to stay awake.
5:45 pm
I turn on some Johnny Cash.
6:00 pm
I smoke two joints, one after the other. The sedative effects of the cactus are increasing. Smoking so slowly the joints go out every time I take a puff. Relight each one about twenty times. Staring out at the horizon. The tops of trees have light blue auras; floral haloes.
6:20 pm
It's difficult to keep my head up. It keeps rolling to the side. It's too heavy to suspend. Better to rest it on my shoulder. The screen is sideways as I type this.
8:30 pm
The sedative effect is gone. It lasts for about an hour after ingestion, during the initial digestive phase. There is now enough room in my stomach to continue with the dose.
Cactus (350 grams) minus skin (105 grams) minus core (45 grams) = 200 grams. I make a new salad, combining the remainder from the last batch with a tomato, a red chili, another quarter iceberg plus the additional 200 grams. Total weight of cacti in salads = 475 grams.
The tomato is a little rotten on the inside. I decide to eat it anyway. I don't use a cutting board. I chop up the salad on the table outside. I can see bits of dirt in it as I'm eating. The chili gives the meal a nice little kick. The sedative sensation comes back after a couple of bites. Within five minutes I feel sleepy. Warm sensations carressing me.
The mescaline has not gotten to a high level yet. I estimate I will need to consume somewhere in the vicinity of 700-800 grams to achieve the desired effect. Probably more due to the lengthy intervals between doses. I have an estimated 325 grams remaining. Assuming I eat the rest of my Pedro by the end of the night, I will reach the 800 mark.
I eat half the salad. Again, I eat until I can't eat anymore. I am bloated. My stomach has gone from concave to convex. It is sticking out, past my ribcage. I put the rest in the fridge for later.
9:15 pm
The hallucinations are getting pretty strong. I eat two more mushrooms gelcaps and smoke a joint while watching the season finale of Dexter.
11:15 pm
I eat the rest of the salad, with another two gelcaps. The warm sensations lasting longer now. Feels like I'm in a hot bath.
1:00 am
I have another two gelcaps and go out on the balcony to smoke a joint. I can see the air. It is dancing. Tiny 3-dimensional luminescent entities, circling each other. Blending together into new entities. Like galaxies being formed. Breaking apart. Shifting partners. Reforming. The air is always moving. It dances like this every second of every day. This invisible miracle. I connect to the universe. Not to the planet. There is no distinction between things and spaces between them. In space, life exists. Life is ever-present.
Little is known about dark matter. In astronomy, we see the things not the space in between them. Same goes for the planet. We, as a species, are equipped to percieve only what is necessary for our survival. While global cognitive perception is expanding, we can still only physically see a small percentage of what is really out there. A tiny fraction of the universe.
People wonder if there's life out there, somewhere. But, it is everywhere. There is life between the earth and the moon just as there is life between a bird and the ground below. This space is not vacant. Birds can see ultra-violet spectrums. We cannot. But we know they exist.
The fabric of the universe is beyond our comprehension. Blood cells are not aware of the body they inhabit. Such awareness is entirely irrelevant to their existence.
If you were born on an atom and you built a spaceship, launching yourself into space, you wouldn't find anything aside from other atoms. There would never be a moment when you realized that you were part of something infinitely larger than yourself; never realizing that the atoms are all tiny pieces of a giant incomprehensible puzzle.
It's easy not to believe in God; try explaining the colour purple to a mole.
I believe in a series of dimensions, to which there is no end. The largest thing we are aware of is the universe. The smallest thing, sub-atomic particles. But that doesn't mean it ends there. What we can see and what we know is a fraction of what is. There are things larger than the universe and things smaller than sub-atomic particles. What we can see is abritray; confined by our limited perspective, and determined by phsiological needs.
Gods have their own Gods; it doesn't matter how big you are, there is always something bigger. Something beyond your comprehension. There must be. Everything we know is infinite. Death is not an end, it is a reworking of material. Dead flesh scattered across the world. Recycled into other organisms. When a star explodes, it doesn't cease to exist. It multiplies.
There's a dead rat on my balcony. My cat killed it. I left it there so flies could lay eggs in it and wasps, eat it. It's been there for a couple of days now. Most of it is gone. Some into my cat's stomach. Other bits into the stomachs of a thousand wasps. What once was rat matter, is now flie larvae. This carcass will give birth to hundreds of tiny flies. Those flies will scatter and lay eggs of their own. Some of them will be eaten. The wasps too. What was once just a rat becomes exponentially greater with every generation.
I found a dead possum on the road out the front of my house. It was fresh, and in good condition, so I picked it up by the tail and brought it home for my cats. They were overjoyed. I don't think they've eaten possum before. Sweetheart ripped out it's throat. They took turns eating until the only bits left were organs. The intestines splayed out like a string of tiny sausage links. I picked it up by the tail and put it out the front, by the bins, for the insects. This was a better way for it to die, rather than being scraped up off the ground and buried somewhere. It fed three cats and thousands of insects instead of just worms. When I die I want to be thrown to wild animals. Lions would be nice. It should be an option. I don't want my physical re-incarnations to be delayed by a coffin. I want my death to mean something to another sentient animal. I want to be devoured by a magnificent animal, rather than being turned straight into worm food. The worms can have what's left of me.
2:20 am
There's a vine climbing my balcony. It's reaching out towards the house. Long twisted stems under my feet. They bloomed today. Two passionflowers, resting against the floorboards. Beautiful complex exotic flora. I smoke another joint. My head is growing weary. I kneel down beside the vine and let my eyes adjust to the moonlight. I stay there for a while, my eyes half open; the cactus, putting me to sleep. I stay there, gazing at the passionflowers.
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