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Mar. 9th, 2015 03:47 pmIt has been a while.
Some stuff has happened. For roughly three weeks, I've been taking DXM every other day as an experiment. This was prompted by Rite Aid having a "Two for One" deal on their syrups; I enjoyed this for a while until I learned that I could buy three bottles of gelcaps for only three dollars at the local Dollar Tree for an indefinite amount of time. I've been learning a lot about the nature of DXM, as well as the nature of myself and my mind. For instance, it seems that you don't receive messages and visions from entities and spirits from without, but rather they come from your own subconscious. Essentially, you have more than one mind and self, and perhaps your mind has a mind of its own that you are usually unaware of. When you take DXM, you remove a lot of the barriers between your consciousness and your subconsciousness, and as such you can learn many things that you otherwise wouldn't. It is possible that you do become more aware of spirits and entities from the outside as well, but for the most part it is all you.
There has only been one time where I had a bad experience. That was the last time I took it, three days ago. I decided to take DXM right after I took it the day before, and I noticed that even on low doses I was getting strong visuals. When I took the last bottle of gelcaps, the euphoria and dissociation went away and my body started to heat up, with my eyes feeling odd. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, and I saw that my pupils were very dilated. I sort of panicked and thought that I got serotonin syndrome, as my legs were also twitching, but after a few minutes it became tolerable and I rolled with it. The visuals were awesome and among the most crisp I had ever seen, however I had a lot of anxiety and the trip wasn't very enjoyable.
I'd like to find other ways to explore the subconscious, but DXM is simply too fun. Outside of my last experience, I don't regret what I have done, although I should probably tone it down a bit.
About two weeks ago, I caught my roommate talking smack about me behind my back. It was stupid of him to have thought that I couldn't hear him talking on the phone, especially when his room is right across from mine. He was just going on about how he's sick and tired of hearing me talk to myself and laugh to myself, and that he has to clean up my mess. The first part is slightly understandable, however the second simply isn't true. He is the one who makes most the messes around the apartment, and there was one time where he didn't do the dishes for six months. Not to mention that he makes me wait around for well over an hour whenever I give him rides for his errands (I give him rides in exchange for him doing the dishes, which he rarely does) and just drags his feet in finding another roommate; I've been paying barely affordable rent for almost a year. He doesn't eat my food, which I am grateful for, but he has been very grouchy and unpleasant over the past few months and we don't get along as much as we used to. I feel like a fool because I have told him things that I now in retrospect should have never said, and I trusted him. He's always been weird, but I tolerated that, partially because I'm weird myself, partially because I'm a tolerant person, but perhaps mostly because I was simply too sheltered. I've only had three other roommates besides him. I don't regret living with other people, but I think that I have lived with him for too long, and now it is time to get a place of my own. I just need to figure out how.
Two of my friends were gone; one has her husband in hospice and the other had jury duty. The one who had jury duty is back now, and I have talked to her a bit and have confided in her about my recent troubles. She really is someone who I can trust; before she left for jury duty, she accidentally told me that she loved me. Of course that was an error, but I was still touched by that. I hope that my other friend is okay; I know what it is like to have a loved one dying, because my mother died more that two and half years ago. Odd that I lost my mother when I was only 28, but if she wasn't dead I'd still be living at home, not as grown up as I am now. Just goes to show you, that most clouds have a silver lining.
I collected some selected poems that I wrote from March of 2013 to March of 2014, and I'm going to write some philosophical and psychological interpretations of them. I plan on self-publishing them under the title Psychotic Poetry and Their Philosophical Interpretations; it will be great because I haven't written any books in a while, and I feel like I should. I haven't read as much books recently, but that will likely change in a few weeks.
Outside of all those things, nothing else has really happened. But a lot did, when you think about it.
Some stuff has happened. For roughly three weeks, I've been taking DXM every other day as an experiment. This was prompted by Rite Aid having a "Two for One" deal on their syrups; I enjoyed this for a while until I learned that I could buy three bottles of gelcaps for only three dollars at the local Dollar Tree for an indefinite amount of time. I've been learning a lot about the nature of DXM, as well as the nature of myself and my mind. For instance, it seems that you don't receive messages and visions from entities and spirits from without, but rather they come from your own subconscious. Essentially, you have more than one mind and self, and perhaps your mind has a mind of its own that you are usually unaware of. When you take DXM, you remove a lot of the barriers between your consciousness and your subconsciousness, and as such you can learn many things that you otherwise wouldn't. It is possible that you do become more aware of spirits and entities from the outside as well, but for the most part it is all you.
There has only been one time where I had a bad experience. That was the last time I took it, three days ago. I decided to take DXM right after I took it the day before, and I noticed that even on low doses I was getting strong visuals. When I took the last bottle of gelcaps, the euphoria and dissociation went away and my body started to heat up, with my eyes feeling odd. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, and I saw that my pupils were very dilated. I sort of panicked and thought that I got serotonin syndrome, as my legs were also twitching, but after a few minutes it became tolerable and I rolled with it. The visuals were awesome and among the most crisp I had ever seen, however I had a lot of anxiety and the trip wasn't very enjoyable.
I'd like to find other ways to explore the subconscious, but DXM is simply too fun. Outside of my last experience, I don't regret what I have done, although I should probably tone it down a bit.
About two weeks ago, I caught my roommate talking smack about me behind my back. It was stupid of him to have thought that I couldn't hear him talking on the phone, especially when his room is right across from mine. He was just going on about how he's sick and tired of hearing me talk to myself and laugh to myself, and that he has to clean up my mess. The first part is slightly understandable, however the second simply isn't true. He is the one who makes most the messes around the apartment, and there was one time where he didn't do the dishes for six months. Not to mention that he makes me wait around for well over an hour whenever I give him rides for his errands (I give him rides in exchange for him doing the dishes, which he rarely does) and just drags his feet in finding another roommate; I've been paying barely affordable rent for almost a year. He doesn't eat my food, which I am grateful for, but he has been very grouchy and unpleasant over the past few months and we don't get along as much as we used to. I feel like a fool because I have told him things that I now in retrospect should have never said, and I trusted him. He's always been weird, but I tolerated that, partially because I'm weird myself, partially because I'm a tolerant person, but perhaps mostly because I was simply too sheltered. I've only had three other roommates besides him. I don't regret living with other people, but I think that I have lived with him for too long, and now it is time to get a place of my own. I just need to figure out how.
Two of my friends were gone; one has her husband in hospice and the other had jury duty. The one who had jury duty is back now, and I have talked to her a bit and have confided in her about my recent troubles. She really is someone who I can trust; before she left for jury duty, she accidentally told me that she loved me. Of course that was an error, but I was still touched by that. I hope that my other friend is okay; I know what it is like to have a loved one dying, because my mother died more that two and half years ago. Odd that I lost my mother when I was only 28, but if she wasn't dead I'd still be living at home, not as grown up as I am now. Just goes to show you, that most clouds have a silver lining.
I collected some selected poems that I wrote from March of 2013 to March of 2014, and I'm going to write some philosophical and psychological interpretations of them. I plan on self-publishing them under the title Psychotic Poetry and Their Philosophical Interpretations; it will be great because I haven't written any books in a while, and I feel like I should. I haven't read as much books recently, but that will likely change in a few weeks.
Outside of all those things, nothing else has really happened. But a lot did, when you think about it.
