[Note, this is basically part two to an earlier thread of mine (https://www.totse.com/community/showthread.php?t=2135840) which was MOVED to fucking SG. This one had better not get moved, because even if I go off on weird tangets it is still a TRIP REPORT damnit. At heart. I swear. I write everything for you, BLTC <3]


There is a strangeness which permeates the universe, a certain alien quality to the intelligence of this weird mix of life and death that we call an adventure. Or at least I call it an adventure, or maybe more correctly an infinite, never ending war. Either way, if I have indeed even split the ways (is there more than one?), the point is that I have found a way to harness this force. It now permeates me, everything I do, speak, write, not-do, think about, NOT think about, dream, awake, remember, forget, whatever, whoever, whenever…why ever. Why, indeed? Without the question there can be no answer, and without a self there can not be an other.

So really, perhaps what I’m getting at is that there is no separateness from this strangeness of which permeates me and everything - or rather there is no “me” but there is strangeness and a universe, in other terms there is only a “me” that is an infinitely strange universe. If you’re confused, well, welcome to my world. There’s nothing in it except confusion & strangeness. Sorry to break it to you, if you were expecting a circus and fireworks you should just load up on some dimethyltryptamine, salvia divinorum and have a blast at Fillmore on the 4th of July. Hell, that sounds like a great idea. Why haven’t I done that?
Maybe it’s because I’ve been too busy watching everything around me slowly dying and being reborn, reshuffled, or reapplied to a different section of this quasi-universe. Mmm…another hit from my most favorite light bulb vaporizer, perhaps the most ghetto way to get as much out of yr cannabis for as long as possible. Stay high as possible. For as long as possible. Wait, was that what I was sent here for? Or just some strange side-trip on my bigger journey of life?

This is exactly what I was asking myself as I laid in a bug-ridden tent in a river bottom, stuck in a K-hole, smacked out of my mind, with cannabinoid receptors firing and misfiring, imploding and exploding at such a horrific rate of speed that there was light, and darkness…Day, night…Sleep? No, of course not. What is that? Aren’t we already asleep? We wake up from one dream to fall asleep into another. The dreamer is the dreamed.

The screams of sex washed over my ear drums as my two tripping partners went at it in the neighboring tent (there is a small community called bamboo/tent city). I couldn’t tell what was worse, their incessant bitching at each other all night over any and everything, or their incredibly over exaggerated cries & moans of pleasure & sexy what nots.

The ketamine was weird, almost too weird but I couldn’t separate myself from the weirdness and I can’t very well call myself too weird, so it passed. There were strange beasts lurking all about, horrible monsters made of pure darkness and shadow, with fire and vengeance in their bottomless, black holes of eyes. What could I do but retreat and wait until they were vanquished by the coming dawn?

And somehow I’m back at an Agent Orange show a few years ago…Halloween, with the “Misfits”….

Bloodstains, speed kills,
Fast cars, cheap thrills,
Rich girls, fine wine
I’ve lost sense - I’ve lost control - I’ve lost my
Mind

Maybe that’s what I should have done. Started singing old punk songs and moshing with the fuckers. Why not? Beasts from the netherworld know how to really jam.

Death…That’s why. Or maybe life is why. Death, death, death…I know you well, friend. Just in the last week or so you’ve paid a visit to two of my friends…subjects the rest of my friends happened to be dwelling on. I never, ever know what to say to people who take the matter of death harshly. How can you get all whiney and crying & what not when you know that yr own death is right around the corner? If it’s even that far off…

And what is it that we lose, anyway? Who is there to die?

Well, I suppose there are two people that were there now that aren’t here anymore – whatever that means. One was stabbed to death over some petty pseudo-gang bullshit, the other overdosed shooting heroin and was pushed into his father’s front lawn, stone dead. I know a spell, and it goes N-A-R-C-A-N. Oh well, what can one do against death?

Not that the people I was with ever asked those kinds of questions. Sure, they ask the proverbial stoner questions, “Dude, do you think that anything is like, even real?” – but I have never seen one try to apply it to their life. “Well, my suffering isn’t real so there’s no reason to complain, is there?”

Dumbness, dumbness all around me and not a single way to move. Trapped, like a horrible, beady eye rat in a cage. Or maggots, burrowing into yr skin…eating yr flesh.

But hell, what can I do? I’m an idiot, too.

I’m just weirder.

You make a very painful condition sound like a fucking joy.

You arsehole.

I live to serve.

Another bunch of shit.

Wonderful, just wonderful. yr contribution has been duly noted...

and. what if i never return?

Some parts of yr writing style remind me alot of Thompson, and its not just yr use of yr.

Dissociatives definitely lend in producing a very philosophical state in the individual, it also strangely makes it easier to examine the world and play around with perception. It's almost as if through some negation of the self it gives one a clearer perception, moving the mind further away from it's anthropocentric tendencies, gaining a more holistic Weltanschauung which functions well in the patterns of systems which govern our entire existence. Simply using a dissociative with no care for setting most likely won't reach these experiences. A true psychonautic journey needs preparation. Philosophical thinking, exploring dreams, some element of ritual must be present, to tie significance to the phenomena.

Overcoming the fear of death, is really the first step in actually examining existence. Philosophize with a hammer, my friend. You must enter the void before you can establish a healthy reality.

Enjoyed the Agent Orange interlude.

Haha, yeah, sometimes I feel like I'm just blatantly ripping him off but its not something I try to consciously do - its more just the energy of it. Sure, I borrow some stylistic elements but he did the same damn thing which made him such an enjoyable author. I can't help it, I pick up nuances from those I respect - I'm working on an epic poem that sings quite like Zarathustra.

Dissociatives definitely lend in producing a very philosophical state in the individual, it also strangely makes it easier to examine the world and play around with perception. It's almost as if through some negation of the self it gives one a clearer perception, moving the mind further away from it's anthropocentric tendencies, gaining a more holistic Weltanschauung which functions well in the patterns of systems which govern our entire existence. Simply using a dissociative with no care for setting most likely won't reach these experiences. A true psychonautic journey needs preparation. Philosophical thinking, exploring dreams, some element of ritual must be present, to tie significance to the phenomena.


Well, when yr detached from yr body it seems like yr not thinking through or with yr body and so there's just mind - and then the examination of philosophy/thought/religion/whatever can really start. Just what is going on here, really?


Overcoming the fear of death, is really the first step in actually examining existence. Philosophize with a hammer, my friend. You must enter the void before you can establish a healthy reality.

Hell yeah.

Enjoyed the Agent Orange interlude.

I'm glad somebody did. :p

And what is it that we lose, anyway? Who is there to die?

Well, I suppose there are two people that were there now that aren’t here anymore – whatever that means. One was stabbed to death over some petty pseudo-gang bullshit, the other overdosed shooting heroin and was pushed into his father’s front lawn, stone dead. I know a spell, and it goes N-A-R-C-A-N. Oh well, what can one do against death?


Cut the stupid social darwinism shit out. Stupid people don't deserve to die. They deserve to live a much better life than any person who gets on their high horse because they have a couple more IQ points than someone else.

Everyone has done plenty of shit that could have possibly killed them. I've been in a wreck because I was in a car with a drunk driver. I've had a gun stuck in my face on several occasions. I've been robbed at knife point. I didn't get out of any of these situations because I

But I'm still here because I'm lucky. That's all. Plenty of people much better than me died recently.

Four months ago a friend of mine overdosed on heroin and died sitting in a lazyboy watching TV. When I was told he was dead, I cried. If anyone came to his funeral and said he died because he was stupid, i'm sure dozens of people would have knocked all of his teeth out. That fucker was funny as hell, he was always fun to be around. And he was at least twice as smart as most people I know walking around.

But in the end, everyone deserves a family and kids and a happy life. The end of your life isn't just around the corner, it can be 70 god damn years away and don't be an idiot and say that's "just around the corner."

What the hell? How does any of that have anything to do with Social Darwinism in any way, shape, or form? I'm not saying he deserved to die, I was saying he could have been revived through a well known method...naloxone. But he was just pushed off into his lawn, dead as a door nail. No hope. Stupid, greedy fuckers.

Death is ALWAYS right next to you. It never leaves yr side. You can't escape it.

Rizzo, You get your musical taste from Tony Hawks Pro Skater Soundtracks, too?

Is dumbness a word?

I really like your writing, reminds me a lot of how I used to feel when I would drift out of my body on PCP. Unfortunately I have yet to try Ketamine, as I hear it is even more mind blowing and infinite.

Shpongle said it well: "Nothing lasts... but nothing is lost."

Cut the stupid social darwinism shit out. Stupid people don't deserve to die. They deserve to live a much better life than any person who gets on their high horse because they have a couple more IQ points than someone else.

Everyone has done plenty of shit that could have possibly killed them. I've been in a wreck because I was in a car with a drunk driver. I've had a gun stuck in my face on several occasions. I've been robbed at knife point. I didn't get out of any of these situations because I

But I'm still here because I'm lucky. That's all. Plenty of people much better than me died recently.

Four months ago a friend of mine overdosed on heroin and died sitting in a lazyboy watching TV. When I was told he was dead, I cried. If anyone came to his funeral and said he died because he was stupid, i'm sure dozens of people would have knocked all of his teeth out. That fucker was funny as hell, he was always fun to be around. And he was at least twice as smart as most people I know walking around.

But in the end, everyone deserves a family and kids and a happy life. The end of your life isn't just around the corner, it can be 70 god damn years away and don't be an idiot and say that's "just around the corner."

That is so God damn True !

I really like your writing, reminds me a lot of how I used to feel when I would drift out of my body on PCP.

That's probably one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me. ;)

tl;dr