I Get Stoned Enough, I'm Honest. Smart Honest. The Kinda Honest I Can Live With.

I don’t like hearing Trump. 

I don’t like looking at the fat orange fucker either. 

I’m tryin’ to try

but if I die

I’m like, “Okay. Yeah.”

Sunday afternoons are a bad trip

without a sitter

without a map

without old men with kind eyes

who tell you exactly where the fuck you are

and how to get back home.

In some kinda half-asleep state some time this morning or last night, it occurred to me that life is a trip. Yeah, I mean trip in a similar sense to a trip one might take on psilocybin mushrooms or LSD. Life is the trip. It's all a trip. That sounds like utter bullshit but I mean it. I'm being completely sincere here.

I knew at some point I would touch on my exepriences with psychedelic compounds. I just didn't really know it would be today. I am not a veteran psychonaut by any stretch of the imagination and it's not something I ever thought I'd do. If you told me a decade ago that I would develop an interest in psychedelics, I would have thought you were quite insane. My experience at this current time has been exclusively with psilocybin mushrooms which are popularly known as "magic mushrooms."

The first thing I became aware of even at relatively low doses of psilocybin was my personality coming apart. Basically, I would become aware of all the parts that make up me. All of these parts are distinct.

There is a part of me that freaks out almost instantly and is basically a slave to fear. I was acutely aware of the sound of this part's voice, its presence.

There is another part that is calm, analytical. It speaks in soothing tones. It's wise. It says, "Hey. You're just tripping, dog. It's okay."

There is yet another part that is suave, ultrasexual and rarely seen by anyone really.

I can also recall being aware of the words I was saying internally being audible as a whisper in my head or something similar.

It's almost a given that I'm going to cry during a trip. I don't mind this much.

Visual hallucinations really don't intrigue me that much. It's about the thoughts that come to me.

I'm barely scratching the surface here.

I'm typing this on my phone at work. I'm trying to not look as idle as I actually am. I'm playing the part of the dutiful employee. In less than an hour, I plan on sneaking out of here. There isn't jack shit anyone can do about it.

I managed to get an appointment scheduled with a therapist on Monday.

I guesss I'll end on that note.

Was a good day. It was a day I could half-way breathe. I handled what needed to be handled and then I went home. 

The air is hot. I’m just in here with me. 

For some reason, I talk a lot at work today. I talk way more than usual. I make people laugh. I get told I’m funny. I get told that I should do stand-up. I confess that in my 20s, I sorta tried that. I told him it didn’t go so well because I half-assed it and I didn’t have a god damn thing to say. He asked me if I think I do now. I said, yeah but I didn’t have anything unique to say. 

I didn’t try so hard at stand-up. Maybe it wasn’t for me. I don’t know. 

Thing is though, I took some risks in the way that I perform me and someone liked it. 

I like that. 

That was cool. 

Half naked. 

Arms raised like some prophet preachin’ what nobody wanted to hear

but I bleed for ‘em 

so they love me

Get punched. 

Get kicked. 

The more it hurts 

The more they feel it 

that stuff people think is the holy spirit. 

Tightness in the chest 

need bed rest 

but the show must go on 

the roar of the diabetic souls 

that in the night 

tell me not to mix those two things 

gets me through another one. 

Fly to victory 

and then the waiting room. 

Walking

Left the house and went out for a walk. 

I’m too sedentary. My life is way out of balance. I think I’m going to try to work back up to running. I think that would be good for me. 

Walked by a park. Saw a little girl on the playground. I realized we were making eye contact. I thought, this is awkward. Without thinking, I waved at her. She waved back. 

That was cool. 

Get lost in the night’s machinery

with nothin’ to see but what there is to see

synthetic angel glow and Internet Protocol that never sleeps

I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in. 

I wish that line was mine. 

Thing is though. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t. 

Sometimes I wanna scream 

cuz I’m wise to the game. 

I know the game is rigged

but I ain’t wise to all the ways the game got put in me 

without my consent. 

I catch myself playin’. 

Hate myself for the size of my wages 

and the fact that my words ain’t commercial 

won’t pay my bills 

won’t free me from dreadin’ the first day of the week 

and from feelin’ all Shawshank on the last day of it. 

I find lately that I’m on a different frequency than the place I come from. I’m acutely aware of this recently. 

I can’t stay here. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know who or what would have me. 

I haven’t written much here but I’ve been expressing myself elsewhere under my own name at times. I’ve got to be expressing something. I’ve got to believe what I’m expressing. I’ve got to believe in my ability to express. I’ve got to believe that I can get through. 

Right now, this is all I can manage to say. 

Unknown

I’ve only been doing this thing for a week. Somehow it feels longer than that. 

I feel like an itch has been scratched. I feel like I ain’t got no itches to scratch today. None. Is that a sign of trouble? 

I guess boredom, shit. No. This isn’t boredom. I don’t know what this is. I swear I’ve been aware of a keener sense of myself lately. No matter how keen your sense gets, you still find that your sense isn’t all the way calibrated. There are uncharted waters within you. 

Maybe this is just being chill. Maybe this is how most people are. 

There is another state of being I sometimes find myself in though it is rare. This is the state of being unfuckwittable. I’ll try and describe that to you some other day because right now there is no fucking way I’m going to be able to do that justice. 

I can’t do most things justice. 

I wasn’t even going to try this today. I was just going to leave it but that seemed like a bad idea. 

I sit here at my desk. Daily Mix 3 playlist from Spotify is blaring and I keep hitting repeat on a particular song. I don’t know why. Not in Love by Crystal Castles. Sometimes I kinda nod my head to it and sometimes I low-key white boy dance to it. The words don’t really speak to me. I can’t really speak to the beat or the musical qualities of this composition because I’m laughably unqualified. 

I find myself thinking of ending montages in TV episodes. Ya know, shots of the characters with little or no dialogue in the closing minutes of the episode as some song plays. 

Yeah. That’s it. Drive safe. 

I sorta tried. Sorta.