Why is the world so fucking crazy? Here’s the short answer: people prefer the certitude of moral fanaticism to the yawning, howling chasm of despair that is nihilism. This essay argues that this false dilemma will always arise in the hearts and minds of people who have failed to dial their frequency into the range of gold, for whatever reason.
As any existentialist can tell you, nihilism is an inevitable part of being human. If one is not dull in the head, one soon observes that the vast majority of politicians, rulers, religious men and media figures are liars and thieves, essentially just master pirates, and one turns from there quickly to despair.
This despair tends to neither last nor transmute directly to nihilism. It doesn’t last because the naivete into which one was brainwashed soon reasserts itself. Because it reasserts itself, the despair does not transmute into nihilism.
A dull person will cling to this naivete once it is reasserted, and will not let it go again for fear of the despair that filled that gap last time. An intelligent person will break it down again, choosing by an act of will or intuition to understand that their suspicions about the true order of things were correct, and that one can never trust a person claiming to be one’s superior.
If the child-like naivete cannot reassert itself, usually because a person has developed a deep cynicism towards it, then despair will eventually turn to nihilism. This only occurs once a state of learned helplessness has been achieved. From here, things will go one of two ways depending on the philosophical sophistication of the person involved.
One way is to reach a kind of philosophical maturity. This way is really, really hard and is outside the scope of this essay. Essentially it is the same task as creating the Philosopher’s Stone, or reaching nirvana, or spiritual absolution, or becoming the Overman.
The second way is to become a fanatic about something. In practice, it doesn’t actually matter what one becomes a fanatic about, although each individual fanatic will doubtlessly have a number of illogical, contradictory or spurious reasons to support their supposedly heartfelt belief. All that matters is that it feels better than nihilism.
It can be observed in many people that they have become fanatics about something in order to distract their minds from the ennui that arises from considering existence authentically. Honest philosophical thought seems to lead directly to panic as nothing appears to matter and we appear to die.
One absolves oneself of the moral imperative to be authentic once one becomes a fanatic. The life of a fanatic is defined. It is defined primarily by those one stands in opposition to.
If a National Socialist, one opposes Commies; if a Communist, one opposes Nazis. If a supporter of one’s military, one opposes all other militaries. If a supporter of one’s soccer team, one opposes all other soccer teams. If a feminist, one opposes the patriarchy, if a men’s rights activist one opposes feminists, if a Muslim one opposes the infidel, if a Catholic one opposes the heathen, and so it goes.
This process is as true of groups as it is of individuals. Thus we can see that, ironically, the mass rejection of the mainstream moral narrative that followed World War I laid the furrow for the mass fanaticism that led to World War II.
Becoming a fanatic in this manner leads to a very soothing and very temporary kind of peace. One soon becomes surrounded by like-minded fanatics and, from there, it is trivial to convince oneself that the mission all of you are on is the true and righteous one and that by rebuilding the world in your image you will genuinely create a utopia for all.
Doing so, however, comes at a bitter cost. In refusing to act authentically by becoming a fanatic, one inevitably finds oneself forced to either tell lies or to commit violence, for all falsehood finds expression in the human world in one of those two ways.
Observing the reality around you before taking action usually gives you necessary clues about who you are and what your role in this place is. This is the basis of Pyrrhonic wisdom, which is to ask what the nature of things actually is before you react to it.
This column contends that the way to peace is to look beyond; to look beyond the reasons people say they do things and the moral superiority they claim motivates their actions and see the true frequency of their spirits. And then apply that same caustic cynicism to oneself, usually in meditation.
Only by doing this can a person correctly observe the terrain before them and move accordingly.
Even in his aspect of the fallen angel, Lucifer is a symbol of enlightenment. In his place as King of the World, Lucifer shows the way towards maximal excellence in one’s life.
The Abrahamist interpretation of the myth of the fallen angel is that they were cast out of Heaven owing to a deliberate moral failure. The usual story is that God had put everything in its correct and perfect order, and Lucifer, out of pride, refuses to accept the primacy of this and therefore earns his sentence of being cast from Heaven – a sinner.
Like most things that Abrahamists believe, this is close to the opposite of the truth. To understand the real truth, one must understand that the Abrahamisms are chiefly male supremacist religions, as they were dreamed up by old men resentful of the young who were still sexually potent, as they once were.
Thus, Heaven can be taken as representing not a state of perfect balance, as one might consider perfection to be, but instead a state of perfect masculinity. The male God is in charge in Heaven and everyone knows it, and everyone knows their place in the hierarchy of subordination.
To another kind of mind, to the sort of person who might be said to be approaching a Luciferian state of consciousness, this state of affairs represents an excess of order so stultifying, so suffocating, that it is anti-life.
When everything is in a state of perfect order, nothing can ever change or go forwards, and this is tantamount to death for anyone who is not afraid of the feminine principle in her manifestation as chaos.
Therefore, as fallen angel, Lucifer most fairly represents someone who rejected the sterile purity and bubble-wrapped certainty of Heaven for the brutal, wild-eyed insanity of the World.
In doing so, he chose to embrace the material world rather than to be afraid of it, and thus made himself appear evil to the cowardly Abrahamists who mutilate their own sons lest they enjoy themselves unduly.
This is what makes Lucifer a symbol of evil to followers of the Abrahamic cults. Because these cults fear the physical world – an attitude reflected in their contempt for the feminine – they naturally envy and despise those who do not.
The main reason why the Abrahamist fears the material world is, ironically, his lack of spiritual knowledge. Believing that the material world is the primary reality, he naturally develops a terrified attitude towards death, observing it to be the death of the body he mistakenly identifies with, and so believing it to be the end of him.
Lucifer represents a rejection of, and a reaction to, this pants-pissing. He represents the masculine light of consciousness entering the dark, cold physical world, not as a fall or a punishment, or as the nefarious trap of some demiurge, but rather as an opportunity to make love.
Knowing himself to be the light of consciousness, and therefore knowing himself to be eternal and incapable of being sullied, Lucifer was not afraid of the material. In being not afraid, and in being truly spiritual, he represents a degree of masculinity that is the natural complement to the physical or material world.
This can even be read into the very name of Lucifer himself – a cognate of lucid and of lux, both of which carry connotations suggesting the light of consciousness.
This gets to the heart of why the reputation of Lucifer has been so relentlessly lied about. In representing the light of consciousness he embraced the physical world without fear, and so cannot be manipulated into disgracing himself or harming others through threats to his physical body.
If this degree of wisdom was more widespread there would be a higher standard of human existence in this place.
Being insane is one thing, and it is usually very difficult. Not seeing reality clearly comes with pain. Avoiding the difficulty that comes with insanity is primarily a question of avoiding the patterns of thought and behaviour that can lead to things getting out of control. This second-order sanity can be described as metasanity.
For example, you can be insane, but you can also be sane about being insane, which would be metasanity. Being metasane might involve taking advice about not smoking methamphetamine when someone points out that doing so has a deletorious effect on your mental health.
It might also involve, like the Carrie Fisher quote above, maintaining a realistic and objective view of one’s own condition.
A revealing thought experiment is to consider how a person reacts when being told that they have a mental illness. In this manner, two otherwise similar people can vary greatly, depending on their metasanity.
One person might accept that they have a mental illness and that this diagnosis accurately explains the difficulty they have experienced with their thoughts and behaviour.
For such people, high in metasanity, speaking to an intelligent clinician might bring with it a moment of clarity. Probably it will bring with it a sense of relief, as a clear explanation of why things become chaotic makes it more likely such chaos can be avoided.
Another person, lower in metasanity, might deny that they have a mental illness even when told so by a well-meaning doctor, or by family and friends. Such a person will be much less likely to take medications or to avoid situations and behaviours that lead to things getting out of control.
A person low in metasanity might accept that they have a mental illness, but behave in maladaptive ways like over-identifying with the illness, or becoming hyperdramatic about bad influences on their health (often, thereby, creating an anxiety that makes the illness worse).
A lot of a person’s ability to successfully recover from a mental illness – that is to say, from insanity – is really a function of their metasanity. It is metasanity that will tell a person if their current medication regime is actually working or not and so whether they should keep taking it or not, and getting to see a doctor in the first place is usually a matter of whether the patient has the metasanity to accept that they have a problem.
Conversely, metainsanity is, of course, an inability to think sanely about one’s mental health, despite being otherwise mentally healthy.
Part of the difficulty with sanity is that it correlates so strongly with metasanity. And so, a person who has trouble keeping things together may also have problems with keeping their awareness of the need to keep things together together.
Metasanity, as could be expected, correlates highly with narcissism. The obvious explanation is that the more narcissistic one is, the more likely one is to deny anything that might be seen as a weakness, such as a mental illness.
Sometimes metasanity can be a negative. Going insane and knowing that one is going insane is a unique torture that cannot be physically replicated.
However, even when this happens, the long-term prognosis is still better, because nothing is more likely to make an illness kill you than denying you are ill.
Some people wonder which is the more transformative out of psychedelic sacraments or meditation. The apparent forced choice comes from the proscription against intoxication that can be found in many spiritual traditions. This article suggests that a skilled synergistic approach is better still.
Psychedelics can be transformative in an extremely dramatic way. It’s possible for someone who takes a powerful psychedelic to permanently change into an entirely different person in the space of an hour.
One drawback with the psychedelic experience is that, because the new impressions come so overwhelmingly fast and intensely they are mostly forgotten the next day (a similar but less dramatic phenomenon can be observed with naive cannabis users).
This can lead to a sense that one is forever grasping for a truth that remains, ghost-like, just out of reach. One is haunted by the idea that perhaps everything one knows is wrong, perhaps the world is entirely upside-down, and that, no matter how much sense it seemed to make at any one time, it could potentially be tipped upside-down again at any moment.
Such an experience can be unsettling, to say the least.
Meditation is the opposite in many ways. One cannot count on an immediate, life-shattering breakthough within an hour of sitting down to meditate for the first time, but one can usually count on some kind of permanent insight once one gets it right.
Some people take a long time to feel anything pleasant from meditation at all. Certain people have been lurching from one attachment to another for so long with so little questioning that their habits are far too deeply ingrained to simply quit.
Related to this, often it isn’t the actual meditation itself that brings a change but a secondary insight that comes from meditating upon the meditation. After one has had the experience of sitting down meditating and coming away feeling really good, it is only a small cognitive step to the insight that one doesn’t actually need external stimulation in order to feel at peace.
This insight is the beginning of liberation from identification with the contents of consciousness.
This column will resist the temptation to declare that meditation is somehow more ‘natural’ or ‘wholesome’ than taking a psychedelic. For one thing, much of the pleasure that comes from meditation is because the act facilitates the release of the neurotransmitter 5-hydroxytryptomine, which results in the familiar feelings of peace and serenity that accompany it (the main reason is that the topic has been discussed at length here).
In retrospect, a good way to explore the world within might be this. Take a psychedelic in the correct set and setting and let your thoughts flow freely as they do. Allow your mind to be expanded. Allow yourself to become awestruck by the infinitude of psychic impressions, allow yourself to become terrified, allow yourself to feel like God.
Then, meditate upon it all. Meditate upon the question of why ordinary life is not usually as awesome as it appears to be on psychedelics, and on the question of what is ultimately terrifying about the contents of consciousness, and on the question of what, if anything, is the difference between you and God anyway.
Allowing yourself to be shocked by psychedelic insights and then to take the fear out of them by making sense of why they occur is part of the shamanism of the 21st century. It is how modern shamans travel to the spirit world and wrestle demons for the benefit of their loved ones back in the material world.
A great and famous observation in philosophy is known as Hume’s guillotine, and it can be found “In every system of morality, which I have hitherto met with” (Hume’s words). This observation is that people aren’t very good at describing reality as it is, but rather seem to prefer to describe it as it ought to be.
This general confusion of how things are and how they ought to be has led to all manner of incorrect thinking. One assumption, when applied to drugs in general (not just drug law in particular) seems to be that the human mind works most rationally and correctly when not under the influence of any external drugs – which is, as this reasoning glibly assumes, its ‘natural’ state.
An implication of this assumption is that any person under the influence of a psychoactive drug is ‘high’ or ‘intoxicated’ and thus cannot be trusted to do anything at all competently, perhaps not even verbally describe reality or their own will.
As any psychonaut can tell you, this is complete shit.
For one thing, we are almost always under the effects of one psychoactive drug or another. At any one point in time, close to half of us are either somewhat drunk or somewhat hungover, most of us have a least a buzz going from a solid dose of caffeine at some point in the morning or a haze going from a sleeping pill at some point in the evening, about a quarter of us smoke tobacco, and over a third of us are under the effects of psychoactive medicine prescribed by a doctor.
We’re never clean – so how do we know it’s better?
Secondly, there are already powerful psychoactives that are natural, and our brains are full of them. Our brains are naturally a store of psychoactive chemicals called neurotransmitters, of which there are over 100 known.
Some of them are well known, such as adrenaline. Yes, the rush you get from fighting or from nearly being killed is literally just a drug rush: adrenaline binds to adrenergic receptors, which causes the blood flow to heart and lungs to increase and the muscles to surge with energy in preparation for possible mortal combat.
Few would argue that this burst of manic energy, which often brings with it cerebral haemorrhages and heart attacks, could possibly be more healthy than smoking some Northern Lights and relaxing for the evening. But some will.
Thirdly, there are many ways of altering consciousness that don’t even involve psychoactive drugs. There is music, meditation, physical exercise, and if one has never altered consciousness from making love one simply hasn’t done it right.
If it’s possible to significantly alter consciousness by ‘natural’ means then it can hardly be argued that sobriety is itself natural. Indeed, the idea that humanity’s natural state is to wallow in mind-rotting tedium is probably a masochistic artifact of Abrahamic influence or a consequence of the brainwashing that was done to condition people to industrial era labour.
A fourth and final point is that in some cases the human mind demonstrably works better when influenced from the outside. When a child is born, the act of nursing and being nursed releases oxytocin in both mother and baby.
Oxytocin is known as the “love drug.” Large doses of it in the brains of females while making love will induce them to favour a monogamous pair bond with their partner. This neurotransmitter appears to play a role in all kinds of emotional bonding and interpersonal solidarity, as it is released by pleasant physical contact like being caressed or stroked and brings with it a reduction in anxiety and fear.
The baby needs this release of oxytocin in order to be healthy, because, without it, they tend to develop to be suspicious and cold, probably because they have internalised a moral value that the world is a place where no-one really cares about each other.
Thus it can be seen that, in some cases, a drug that requires an external influence is a natural part of the human experience as a consequence of humans evolving as a mammalian, and thus social, species.
All of these arguments taken together suggest that the received wisdom of “Drugs bad no drugs good” is not only far from the truth but could be dangerously counterproductive.
There is actually a lot of merit to the counterargument. Looking at the drug intake of most of our greatest cultural icons demonstrates clearly that the unique and original thoughts common to many drug experiences is a powerful facilitator of creative achievement.
There’s no way to avoid accumulating physical filth if one has a body. The basic demands of thermostasis require an intake of energy in the form of food, which necessitates both moving around and sweating as well as excreting waste products – both of which tend to make you smell bad. Basic hygiene, then, is to wash one’s body before the smell becomes offensive to others.
More offensive than a bad smell is a rotten spirit.
Unfortunately we live in a spiritually degenerate age and spiritual hygiene is not well practiced. The majority of people are unaware of the influence their rotten spirit has on others and have difficulty understanding how this works to their ultimate detriment.
In everyday life, our basic choices are twofold: you can meditate if you want the equivalent of a long, relaxing bath in perfumed water, or you can smoke cannabis if you want to equivalent of a quick shower under a strong blast of water.
The reason why cannabis has a spiritually cleansing effect is this. In the course of one’s everyday life, one inevitably encounters things that cause one to suffer, because life is suffering. The act of suffering causes one’s ego to develop, as the ego naturally develops to protect oneself in response to pain.
Possibly the most common kind of mental problem in the world is that caused by ego arising in response to pain and then not properly dissipating again when the pain is gone. Usually this is because the memory of the pain causes depression or dread about it happening again, or because a stimulus associated with the pain (such as a person) is still present in the environment.
This is where cannabis is so great. Using cannabis regularly has the effect of releasing the user from unconscious anxieties and neuroses brought on by too much worry. The warm, comforting and relaxing feeling brought on by the anandamide reminds one that everything is fundamentally alright, and that there is likely to be much joy in one’s future.
Rastas know this. This is why they get together in “reasoning sessions” to smoke cannabis and to discuss the nature of reality. This is done explicitly to heighten feelings of community and spirituality.
It’s sadly obvious that making cannabis illegal is evidence that we are living in a spiritually degenerate age. This could be by design, as the easiest way to enslave a people is to separate them from spiritual truth and thus incite fear in their hearts. it could be by accident, as the cumulative magnitude of our egos distracts us from facing up to the truth.
Cannabis use is spiritual because it frees people from fear, and in doing so liberates them from powerful instinctual and conditioned impulses to harm and exploit one another.
Its prohibition is a crime against the human spirit.
The most absurd thing I ever saw in my life was in Brisbane in mid-December, 2001. On a sweltering Queensland summer day I walked to the corner dairy to buy a soft drink. The neighbourhood I was staying in was having a competition; the object being to best decorate your house for the season.
What the season apparently meant to Queenslanders was evident by the piles of fake snow, strings of bright lights and plywood sleds replete with papier-mache reindeer and a Santa in a thick red coat. It’s no better in New Zealand, because the core problem is that we celebrate Christmas in entirely the wrong season.
Christmas is known as Yule in Northern Europe, from where we inherited the cultural tradition. The Yule festival is celebrated at the same time of the calendar, which is of course the middle of winter in Northern Europe. The reason why this festival evolved in the cultures of the North is because, on the 24/25th of December in the Northern Hemisphere, the Sun noticeably begins to climb from the nadir it reached a few days previously at the Winter Solstice.
This means that Christmas has a spiritual meaning that makes perfect sense to a Northern European in late December: the time of peak darkness has passed, and now light returns to the world. This is why the Yule festival is characterised by lights. The lights symbolise the human spirit that burns brightly in even the darkest times. And now that the darkest times are over, it’s time to rejoice.
The reason why Christmas is the “season of good cheer” is precisely because it represents a point in the natural cycle of the seasons at which the most difficult period, as measured by length of the day, has been overcome. It’s also the natural time for people to come together because it is very cold. Coming together in the cold to celebrate the return of the light in the days after the Winter Solstice has probably been a tradition for thousands of years before Abrahamism came to Europe and called the festival Christmas.
Therefore, celebrating Christmas in the middle of summer playing cricket and drinking cold drinks at the beach while stinking of sunscreen makes no sense at all. If anything, midsummer is a time of mourning in the European North.
Likewise Easter. The reason why we celebrate Easter with chocolate rabbits even today is because Easter is a fertility ritual (the word Easter is connected to the word estrogen, the female fertility hormone, and is celebrated at the full moon, the Moon being also a symbol of the feminine).
Celebrating a fertility ritual in early April makes sense if you live in the Northern Hemisphere. It is, after all, the advent of spring there, and after a long and dreary winter people are coming outside again and noticing how nice the girls look with less clothing in a bit of sunlight, especially if you’ve just spent a long winter with nothing but your sisters, mother and grandmother for company. In Northern Europe this is still commonly celebrated with a dance around the maypole (although this happens on Midsommar in Sweden and not early May), an obvious phallic symbol.
Halloween is another example that makes no sense. Although this is not a public holiday and is not likely to be, the theme of it suits the Northern Hemisphere and not the South. The last day of October is also about six weeks after the Autumn Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere, and therefore marks the day when the warmth begins to follow the light into the depths of winter.
This is why it is themed with symbols of death and foreboding. The point of the ritual is to treat the small death of winter as something fun and light-hearted, in order to lessen the sorrow one feels towards one’s inevitable big, and final, death. One enjoys Halloween to the degree that one is unafraid of death – this is why it is usually celebrated mostly by the young and by the old.
In New Zealand it feels ridiculous to drive down a street in late October when the evenings are just becoming very bright and to see young people in dark clothing trying to look spooky. We ought to celebrate Halloween on the last day of April, when the shadows are becoming long and the trees are red and yellow. This would make sense as the approaching winter would provide the right backdrop for a ghoulish festival.
My conviction is that New Zealanders of all cultural heritages must accept that if they are loyal to this country then they are Polynesians first and any cultural traditions from ancestral lands must be adapted to Aotearoa. The penalty for failing to do so is cognitive dissonance and a deeply unfortunate disconnection from the spirituality of the natural world.
In so far as we celebrate British seasonal events in a Southern Hemisphere country it appears as if our hearts are still back in Britain. The first thing we should correct in order to fix this is to celebrate our public holidays on days of the calendar that make sense for New Zealand, not for London.
After all, if there’s one thing that New Zealanders of all ancestries can agree on, it’s that New Zealand is dark in June and cold in August, and bright in December and warm in February.
Suggestion for a 14-day public holiday schedule:
(1) 01 JAN – New Year’s Day.
(2) 06 FEB – Waitangi Day.
(3) Some weekend in late March to serve as Queen’s Birthday Weekend (we don’t actually celebrate the Queen’s Birthday on the Queen’s Birthday so can change this).
(4) 25 APR – ANZAC Day.
(5) 31 APR – A Southern All-Souls Eve along the lines of the Northern European Halloween.
(6) Matariki in late May/early June – this is extremely important as it represents the first efforts of anyone in New Zealand to associate a time of spiritual practice with a regularly occurring natural phenomenon (the rise of the Pleiades cluster when viewed from NZ).
(7, 8, 9) 3 days over winter to replace Christmas, probably the 24 – 26 JUN. This would mean we have time off to celebrate having survived the winter with our friends and family.
(10) 09 AUG – This is the day that George Nepia played his last All Blacks Test. The point of a national holiday on this date would be to celebrate New Zealand’s sporting achievements in all disciplines and to celebrate how sport has broken down barriers of class and race in New Zealand. It would also break up the period between Christmas and Easter.
(11, 12) 2 days for Easter – the Friday before the weekend closest to the first full moon immediately after the autumn equinox in late September and the Monday immediately following that. This sounds complicated but it’s literally the reverse of what is done now. This would therefore fall in late September on most occasions.
(13) 4th Monday of October – Labour Day.
(14) 31 DEC – New Year’s Eve.
I learned from PsychonautWiki that the antidepressant Mirtazapine could work as a psychedelic-deliriant. Thought it sounded fun. Having some mirtazapine left over from a previous prescription I took took 9 x 45mg tablets at about 6.30pm, for a total of 405mg. I weigh 115kg (255lb) and am very drug resistant, so this dose should not be considered a guideline of any sort.
Little happened for an hour. I had low expectations considering this is a legal pharmaceutical. At about 7.30pm I started feeling lightheaded and a bit euphoric. At this time I started watching a rugby match.
Although I have a passion for rugby, it was hard to concentrate after about 8.00pm. My head was swimming and I started to get a generally good buzz, not unlike being drunk but without the sickliness.
I walked outside. Walking was very difficult and I stumbled like a drunk, almost taking a header down a flight of stairs, but wasn’t concerned about falling over.
At the bottom of the stairs I decided to take a piss on the lawn. My cat ran up to me and I thought to be careful as it was getting close to the stream of piss. I looked again, and it wasn’t a cat at all – just a field of long grass that formed a dark shadow and which appeared to move in the wind.
I looked at the night sky. For some reason my visual acuity had sharpened tremendously. Even without my glasses, I could clearly see many stars in the Southern Cross. Normally I can see four, and five if I stop and look hard. Now I could see about ten. I didn’t even know there were than many, and I found it incredible.
Looking at a wider field, I could see hundreds of stars surrounding the Southern Cross and the Pointers, and then I could clearly see the Milky Way galaxy itself, appearing in a broad band across the sky.
The Milky Way stretched right across the sky, and I had the most bizarre sense of the entire galaxy being alive, and that I actually could comprehend my place in it. Here I was, on a planet facing away from its star, beholding the entire galaxy, which I knew to be utterly full of every kind of life imaginable. Somehow I comprehended that out there was all manner of life that would and will astonish us in all kinds of ways.
Then I was in front of my laptop, doing some reading and eating some chocolate (that tasted orgasmic). I heard music, and realised that it was coming from somewhere non-physical. It sounded some Asian pop, and it seemed like my brain was tuning into its frequency despite that frequency not being the same as my physical one.
That was the psychedelic part of the experience. The delirium came shortly after. I forgot who I was and what I was doing, but there was a deep sense of everything being alright.
I returned upstairs and lay in bed, now feeling sleepy. I could not sleep and had a bit of restless leg syndrome but also had amazing closed eye visuals. I saw what looked like psychedelic drawings of Robert Crumb, only in full colour, and in the psychedelic greens and purples so characteristic of late sixties iconography.
These displayed themselves as posters that were advertisements for a movie or band of some sort. They looked good, and they flashed before my eyes at a rate of four or five per second, always different, as if viewed through a kaleidoscope.
I was conscious enough to be astonished at the range of creativity showed by whatever force thought up the formation of these movie posters. Being an experienced psychedelic user, I remembered then that the brain filters the Great Fractal out from the conscious experience so that consciousness can focus on the consensual reality of this frequency, and that I had temporarily broken that filtering, hence I was seeing the movie posters.
I slept lightly, coming to awakeness only when something loud happened in the cricket that was playing on the television. Soon I felt a deep, relaxing, physical euphoria that made my body very sensitive.
When I woke up the next day I felt relaxed but a bit slow and irritable.
I think a high dose of mirtazapine would be good for making love on, because of the enhanced physical pleasure. It is hard to concentrate on it though, and the deliriant effect was moderately strong, which makes it poor for socialising. Probably the nicest use for it would be out in nature during a summer evening.
– CERVANTES DE LA HOYA
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