Shades of violett and blue
Out of the earth it is growing, step by step, the psychedelic fruit in shades of violett and blue. The taste is not quiet pleasant, distasteful some would say, but in the end its not the looks nor taste, which gives me satisfaction rather more the experience I gain. While all living dies down with time, like the rough salty sea, nagging on the stony clives - the physical downfall you might say - it is never too late for a change in perpective, another look at one's own life's worth.
The day before, I crossed borders, got lost in the unknown forests with the crying sky wetting all my stacks, for my minute's worth of joy - an antidepressant, which doesn't rely on simply paralyzing nor colouring one's world in traces of pink and happieness, but changing the patterns of thinking - changing life.
The trip.
Everything is done, which needed to be done. I am starting to eat spices to numb my taste. The earth fruits still taste quiet unpleasant, but soon the medicine wa taken. Relaxed I am falling down in my chair waiting for the trip to start surfing and wasting in the cyberspace. Slowly crawling out of the shadow's, my caged up feelings free themselves of the chains of mindfullness. Fractals are moving in synchrony. Life starts throwing punches at me from side to side, without effect. I start laughing at the worthless tries. The bowfront has been brocken for quiet some time, but ducktape can hold up the most shattered pieces of mirrored glass. The mixed candy bag with sweets and sours had been eaten. The thinking starts.
Trying to reshape my mind I am confronted with life's structurring. The patterns of living and dying so boring and "well" known. I can't understand how people are able to live with such restrictions. Creating there own cages, people categorize, summarize and create a term: "normal". Being "normal" "=" "equal" is the disease spreading throughout this world. A guidance, which is interpreted all to often with money and fame - simply missued. Creating borders and excluding others will only hinder one's own potential growth. Nobody is the same and it makes me sad to see the "potential" of humanity waste by hate and standards. Crying over the unlogical way life seems to be, I am falling in depression. Why can't I simply filter life's futlity? My physical limitations show up again. I forget how to speak, to think. Everything is senseless and the paradoxon of life is once again showing up in all its facettes. I am creating 3-d-structures and the pain of thinking gets worse and worse, my brain is burning in the flames of agony. In the chaos of theories a gear is grinding. Something changed, a change I can't construe at the time being. The body numbing pain lifts up and I want to rest. The trip is over, but my thinking is not...
Most of my trips are more painful than relieving, short-term speaking, but they are giving me so much in return. They are making me resistent to stress and free up my mind of unnecesarry thoughts. The years without emotion, without thinking, without memories - pseudo dementia - are over. It may only last around 2 weeks, but for me its the greastest gift on earth. My minute's worth of joy.
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I would like to life a joyful life in general, but I am running low on energy. The 8 year hardships has left its marks written on my owm skin. I never learned to communicate with other beings - spent weeks without speaking (more than 10) words - and it is quiet annoying to see the steps I have to take. Being in my early twenties it is still possible and the red-tinted horizon looks so close...
The future looks bright and it makes fun to use my brain. I am still in conflict to use any kind of medicine besides psychedelics. It took so long to be at this point. MDMA... but the verbal memory deficit's make me nervous. And so I stay sober like I "always" do, trying to give sense and reason to my life (who would have thought that one day want to live?).
Chaos is the spring of life and therefor chaos is the answer for my being. I only change through something new rivaling the old.
Out of the earth it is growing, step by step, the psychedelic fruit in shades of violett and blue. The taste is not quiet pleasant, distasteful some would say, but in the end its not the looks nor taste, which gives me satisfaction rather more the experience I gain. While all living dies down with time, like the rough salty sea, nagging on the stony clives - the physical downfall you might say - it is never too late for a change in perpective, another look at one's own life's worth.
The day before, I crossed borders, got lost in the unknown forests with the crying sky wetting all my stacks, for my minute's worth of joy - an antidepressant, which doesn't rely on simply paralyzing nor colouring one's world in traces of pink and happieness, but changing the patterns of thinking - changing life.
The trip.
Everything is done, which needed to be done. I am starting to eat spices to numb my taste. The earth fruits still taste quiet unpleasant, but soon the medicine wa taken. Relaxed I am falling down in my chair waiting for the trip to start surfing and wasting in the cyberspace. Slowly crawling out of the shadow's, my caged up feelings free themselves of the chains of mindfullness. Fractals are moving in synchrony. Life starts throwing punches at me from side to side, without effect. I start laughing at the worthless tries. The bowfront has been brocken for quiet some time, but ducktape can hold up the most shattered pieces of mirrored glass. The mixed candy bag with sweets and sours had been eaten. The thinking starts.
Trying to reshape my mind I am confronted with life's structurring. The patterns of living and dying so boring and "well" known. I can't understand how people are able to live with such restrictions. Creating there own cages, people categorize, summarize and create a term: "normal". Being "normal" "=" "equal" is the disease spreading throughout this world. A guidance, which is interpreted all to often with money and fame - simply missued. Creating borders and excluding others will only hinder one's own potential growth. Nobody is the same and it makes me sad to see the "potential" of humanity waste by hate and standards. Crying over the unlogical way life seems to be, I am falling in depression. Why can't I simply filter life's futlity? My physical limitations show up again. I forget how to speak, to think. Everything is senseless and the paradoxon of life is once again showing up in all its facettes. I am creating 3-d-structures and the pain of thinking gets worse and worse, my brain is burning in the flames of agony. In the chaos of theories a gear is grinding. Something changed, a change I can't construe at the time being. The body numbing pain lifts up and I want to rest. The trip is over, but my thinking is not...
Most of my trips are more painful than relieving, short-term speaking, but they are giving me so much in return. They are making me resistent to stress and free up my mind of unnecesarry thoughts. The years without emotion, without thinking, without memories - pseudo dementia - are over. It may only last around 2 weeks, but for me its the greastest gift on earth. My minute's worth of joy.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would like to life a joyful life in general, but I am running low on energy. The 8 year hardships has left its marks written on my owm skin. I never learned to communicate with other beings - spent weeks without speaking (more than 10) words - and it is quiet annoying to see the steps I have to take. Being in my early twenties it is still possible and the red-tinted horizon looks so close...
The future looks bright and it makes fun to use my brain. I am still in conflict to use any kind of medicine besides psychedelics. It took so long to be at this point. MDMA... but the verbal memory deficit's make me nervous. And so I stay sober like I "always" do, trying to give sense and reason to my life (who would have thought that one day want to live?).
Chaos is the spring of life and therefor chaos is the answer for my being. I only change through something new rivaling the old.