Short Story Part 2 [Edited]Wednesday, 6/07/2016
The following (like the last post) is a fictional account of the style of teaching a person might encounter through the use of psychedelic mushrooms. We’ll give this character my name for convenience’s sake… (I might refine this in time…)
So Magic Mushrooms may be an effective treatment for depression, leaving the user with less of a comedown and more of an afterglow… That was certainly the case at times for several days after the trip, although now, three weeks later, sometime in April – there’s also a new and uncomfortable experience that I’ve never had before… I’m being placed very starkly in front of My Issues As They Really Are (MIASTRA, we’ll call it).
I’m alone in a hotel room in Stirling, being made to look at MIASTRA and being prevented from looking away. I say, look – I mean feel – I’m feeling extremely specific emotions, much more specific
Short Story…Sunday, 10/04/2016
Here’s a short story I wrote…
I woke up at about 9 to find that I’d slept for 8 hours without the anxiety that had pervaded the previous two weeks. Jack – my friend who had agreed to be trip-sitter, had given me one mushroom to eat before bed just to test I didn’t have any strange reaction. He assured me this was too small a quantity to have any psychoactive effect…
I’d had a very vivid dream that had taken place outside a hotel I knew from somewhere or other. A long glass wall and then a round window in a bricked square section. Curtains of polyester looked faintly religious – and then, ringing into being I felt the anomie rising… I walked, head down, towards a delapidated rose garden and all of a sudden became aware that the beloved person was holding me from behind, his arms
Same Topic, New Ideas…Monday, 4/05/2015
There’s a force driving each of us, that has to be known – and perhaps it’s completely beyond our control, perhaps it’s beholden only to our genetic makeup and environment – and the whims of nature that have brought us about. There may be no such thing as free will and we may be mere spectators of a film – that’s happening to us. It seems fashionable to accept this as fact nowadays and to my mind, compelling enough to believe.
What gets in the way a little, though – intuitively at least – is that sense of importance that comes with awareness. The experience of being alive is so intensely hubristic – it’s such a spectacular dance of surfaces assembling to greet you wherever you go – and you’re there, wired into this beautiful feeling mainframe… and you have this innate desire to live and to thrive and a