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So, two nights ago I did DXM after a tolerance break of six months.
I thought that I was only going to mildly trip, but instead, I got my ass handed to me.
It was a very brutal experience, the most brutal I ever had from any drug. I even thought about not ever doing it again, when I was coming down from the trip. But it was necessary, in order to learn about the nature of the world, and to move on.
I did it, mainly because my chronomancy abilities told me that it was the right thing to do. Over the past week, I was very bothered by an issue that I have had for half of my life, and I finally told it to my friend, my former boss at the Chemistry Department. She was very worried about me, to the point where she told her husband that she was afraid that I was going crazy. I tried contacting my therapist, but she never called me back. I didn't see her this week, either, even though I was supposed to; the appointment was cancelled.
DXM has proven to be very therapeutic in the past, and I had no other option. So as such, I tripped my balls off, to the point where I didn't know who I was, or that I was tripping in the first place.
I had many visions, but one stood out. It was a crude mechanism of parts that differed from one another, rough in shape and covered in grime. A part would fall off due to not being either wanted or needed, and then the vision zoomed out, with the mechanism being a part of a rough matrix of other similar mechanisms, working separately and in approximate unison.
At first, I didn't know what the vision meant. But now I know; the grime resembled the fact that reality is neither clear nor consistent. Life is filled with various factors contributing to the chaos, and we can't perceive the factors and try to ignore the chaos. The parts resembled humanity; neither equal nor uniform, working as best as they can to function. And the part that was discarded resembled the fraction of humanity that I despised; that they would be recognized as unwanted and unworthy, and as such would be sloughed off and sent to the depths.
All in all, it taught me that life is filled with so many things that we either can't or won't perceive or understand, and that is what makes things interesting. We also try to find those that are compatible to us, in order to be functional with both life and ourselves. There is no global unity; we have to find our own group. Life is complete, but not consistent; we don't understand either existence or the world, but we are nonetheless apart of it, trying to construct our own artificial reality in order to deal with the world better. And the ones who I hate, who don't deserve to exist? Either nature or God will take care of them, and thus things will remain decent in the long run so long as we don't fuck it up with egalitarianism or other worthless ideals (or just plain cowardice). The design will still function, and God will always have his way in the end.
We can't all be equal, for if we were, we would all be the same parts, and as such there would be no working mechanism. And some parts just never fit.
I thought that I was only going to mildly trip, but instead, I got my ass handed to me.
It was a very brutal experience, the most brutal I ever had from any drug. I even thought about not ever doing it again, when I was coming down from the trip. But it was necessary, in order to learn about the nature of the world, and to move on.
I did it, mainly because my chronomancy abilities told me that it was the right thing to do. Over the past week, I was very bothered by an issue that I have had for half of my life, and I finally told it to my friend, my former boss at the Chemistry Department. She was very worried about me, to the point where she told her husband that she was afraid that I was going crazy. I tried contacting my therapist, but she never called me back. I didn't see her this week, either, even though I was supposed to; the appointment was cancelled.
DXM has proven to be very therapeutic in the past, and I had no other option. So as such, I tripped my balls off, to the point where I didn't know who I was, or that I was tripping in the first place.
I had many visions, but one stood out. It was a crude mechanism of parts that differed from one another, rough in shape and covered in grime. A part would fall off due to not being either wanted or needed, and then the vision zoomed out, with the mechanism being a part of a rough matrix of other similar mechanisms, working separately and in approximate unison.
At first, I didn't know what the vision meant. But now I know; the grime resembled the fact that reality is neither clear nor consistent. Life is filled with various factors contributing to the chaos, and we can't perceive the factors and try to ignore the chaos. The parts resembled humanity; neither equal nor uniform, working as best as they can to function. And the part that was discarded resembled the fraction of humanity that I despised; that they would be recognized as unwanted and unworthy, and as such would be sloughed off and sent to the depths.
All in all, it taught me that life is filled with so many things that we either can't or won't perceive or understand, and that is what makes things interesting. We also try to find those that are compatible to us, in order to be functional with both life and ourselves. There is no global unity; we have to find our own group. Life is complete, but not consistent; we don't understand either existence or the world, but we are nonetheless apart of it, trying to construct our own artificial reality in order to deal with the world better. And the ones who I hate, who don't deserve to exist? Either nature or God will take care of them, and thus things will remain decent in the long run so long as we don't fuck it up with egalitarianism or other worthless ideals (or just plain cowardice). The design will still function, and God will always have his way in the end.
We can't all be equal, for if we were, we would all be the same parts, and as such there would be no working mechanism. And some parts just never fit.