Citation: Ganja_Dragon. "Needlessness: An Experience with LSD (exp65797)". Erowid.org. Dec 9, 2010. erowid.org/exp/65797
Two hits of acid, reportedly weak ones, consumed. mm, gelatinthings. They taste funny. I thought they were friggin' plastic at first! I was like... 'durrh? How's this supposed to work???' Then it dissolved.
I'm hungry. I think I will nibble on something.
Yay! Mama's homemade rice gruel! With shreds of chicken and scallops!
Something is... off. I feel different, though I am at a loss to describe exactly how. It is as if I'm me, but I'm not me. I suppose the philosophical implications are that either I am undergoing a change in state of mind or I am undergoing a change in dimensional occupation. Somehow, I like thinking about the change in dimensional occupation. Why? Because this dimension sucks ass.
Why am I choosing these strange, non-rounded times to write my entries, now? I don't know. I'm noticing a rather definite change in the space around me and the method in which it is being processed through my head. I mean, everything's still there and where it should be, it's just the relative identification my mind has with is... drifting somewhere. Wait, that was terrible. It's... changing. Yes. No. Argh.
Motion is as it is supposed to be, but my ultimate perception of it is defying explanation. In techie terms, the end user is misreading the EULA (End User License Agreement), the lawyer defining it is a pothead, and the lawyer that wrote it is probably a crackhead. Yeah. The telephone game at its finest. 'Mm-mm good!' turns into 'O RLY?' by the time I hear the last guy say it. Besides that, my initial impressions are good. Amusing. Why bother to do something if it does not serve a purpose, yes? When the purpose is fun, it is technically devoid of meaning and, simultaneously, full of it. With that in mind, is there anything that is truly devoid of meaning? Any given action we have. Even if we consider the seemingly pointless and shallow actions of, say, Paris Hilton (may she burn forever). Is any of it truly meaningless? Purpose in purposelessness. Intriguing concept, is it not? I could probably write of this for days, but I shall not bore you.
As the effects intensify, I am forced to grin at the possible futility of logging my experience. The very basis of all of my perception is being altered in what seems to be a systematic desynchronization of interneural communication. The keyboard seems to shift with every mental waver, but it does not. My muscle memory retains its integrity, and allows me to type with barely a blink of effort. I've been noticing a mild tremor or jitteriness in just about every skeletal muscle group I know about. The last time this occurred, Ecstasy had worked on me for the first time (details later, I suppose). I would say the trembling is anticipatory, but that does not seem to be the case. Rather, it appears to be a reflexive adrenal outburst in response to an unknown (and possibly dangerous) situation. Rest assured I am fully alert, though I cannot promise the integrity of my feedback on... anything, really.
The computer screen appears to have turned a mild, but no less dazzling array of colors. The text appearing onscreen is practically meaningless. I hardly want to look at it. Far more fascinating are my fingers, which dance a song unheard of in any human land in any human tongue.
What I am appearing to experience is a complete and utter defiance of every physical law I was told was fundamentally irrefutable. Obviously, these people have never done acid in their lives.
I think I'm still making sense, but I am... not entirely sure of this anymore. I made one statement with the perception of two... states. Think Gollum from Lord of the Rings, except as a coin flipping so fast I can barely identify which side is where. Fascinating. This idea is... somehow a revelation to me. The image of a coin... It's all in my head, too...
I was completely and utterly enthralled and entertained by nothing. I spent a few minutes just laughing. I think after a few seconds, I was laughing at the fact that I was laughing. Because laughing is infectious... and I cannot deny that when someone bursts out laughing for no apparent reason, that in and of itself, is worthy of a laugh. May laughter consume our world, then!
...no. It doesn't work that way. Though I may wear a silly smile on my face, I harbor a bitterness towards mankind many people will never know, and that is probably for the better.
What upsets me is not the pointlessness of it all-- no. I already have that internal debate as to whether or not anything is truly pointless or meaningless. What upsets me about mankind is the needlessness of it. Let me say that again.
Call it a vicious appraisal, call it contempt for the greater good, call it what you like... but the things that man has suffered at the hands of man... the things that animals have suffered at the hands of man...
There was never any need for it.
Needless violence. The only violence one need engage in is the violence requisite of ensuring one's own survival. Anything past that is as I've said: needless.
Beyond survival. Let's discuss that. What does that mean? It means... more than I need to do to survive. It means... I'm kinda full, but I'd like to have a little more.
The violence involved in the rise of all these great empires which we are so quick to revere is all invariably condemnable by man's own standards. Man's own standards. That's the punchline. That's the fucking punchline. All these heroes... they were born in strife and made by horror, not this brazen glory we paint them in... not these ridiculous renderings of marble, gold, and brass...
How much glory could I possibly bestow Jesus Christ in that tiny little gold necklace of mine? How much love can I possibly depict in one gesture that I would so rightfully call myself a child of God, that I truly know his intentions and can speak his mind?
...I digress. It seems I've lost myself in a little swirl of anger. Yes, that happens sometimes. Then again, I am here for the trip, so to speak. I suppose... you're all my passengers-- you being whoever is reading this, of course.
This involuntary trembling-- this shivering... it needs to stop. It's rather unnerving. I have a good idea what is causing it, though I can't say it is of much relief.
I'm noticing more and more during this experience that I am susceptible to suggestion. ...being a bitter person at heart is one thing, but bringing it up is fuelling the fire. Ha. I probably make no sense. I'm forced to laugh at myself. I'm forced to smile at the preposterous nature of all of this writing-- all of these letters all neatly lined up like they're marching into a slaughterhouse. Mmm... meat... Lots of little letter-lambs...
--what the fuck is wrong with me? Really, what is all this? Obviously, speaking as someone who is not within the experience, I would say 'dude... you're tripping. It happens.' when what I should really say is: 'Obviously, you.'
Now that's the fucking trick, isn't it? The best of comebacks are spawned by their point of origin. It makes sense, right now, I swear! You're staring at this like 'WTF, mate? Why the fuck am I still reading this bullshit?'
Why? BECAUSE YOU'RE LOOKING FOR THE SECRETS OF THE FUCKING UNIVERSE! BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Guess what? There aren't any! Because if I know about it, it's not a fucking secret anymore, is it? But if I don't know about it, then my lack of knowledge of its existence really makes that question moot, doesn't it?
Expansion of the mind, this is... Strange (a word that has been appearing a lot), but... I lost my train of thought. Nevermind. It'll come back to me eventually. Like a snake. rar.
Oh, yes. Acid is definitely an expansion of the mind, and should be used with that purpose in-hand. Needlessly (there's that word again) 'expanding my mind' is ultimately pointless, though the fun involved in it is not. Oh, the decadence of considering needless brain-expansion for fun... It makes me want to put on a brilliant peacock-array of feathers in blue, purple, and green... and vomit.
See, that is what has been upsetting me about mankind. Needlessness. Yes, back to beating on that old, dead horse... Whatever.
Fear? Should I intentionally invoke fear? Dare I?
...Incredibly fascinating. I've found that by digging into my own head I can weave virtual realities and simulated experiences that essentially feel as real as the things I touch to send out this message.
Death. It is many of our ultimate fears. In some cultures, it is a phenomenon to be embraced. In others, such as our arguably more narcissistic and hedonistic American society, it is the ugliest of the ugly. We daren't touch it with a ten foot pole.
As someone who's felt the movement of his hand one too many times... I find it as another unknown... another infinity to explore, much like this one, though attempting to write about it might be a little difficult once I know what it really is like.
I've dug into my own head and explored some of my fears-- darkness and what it portends. It seems silly to most, but my great issue was the simple fact that I have 'seen' shit without drugs... for years.
It doesn't help a child's natural fears of the nonexistant beasts beyond the shadows waiting for a barely noticable soul to cross by its macrocosmic path to be consumed. Am I making any sense anymore? I understand that I am not trying to, and this is all... quite hilarious... I must sound like some pretentious goth doing the basement troll thing. Rarrarr.
This is driving me MAD! I am attempting to pursue my darkness, but I am simultaneously avoiding it for fear of my life. Why? If I am my own darkness, then what is there to fear but that which one instills upon themselves? Does that theoretically mean fear is a moot point? Hmm... ... ... ... With that in mind, what need is there for any aggressive action? It all seems so ludicrous.
All these technologies we develop to kill each other. It really is enough to make me burst out laughing at the hopelessmess of it all. This computer you sit at evolved from a machine that projected the trajectory of a battleship's multi-ton explosive shell so that we humans could put it where it would do the most damage. The irony of the origins of our information superhighway.
And this journal seems to reflect such bitterness.... why? In a way, that in and of itself is pointless. The bitterness at the actions of man. I need not punish myself for foul deeds of others, yet philosophically, we all cut off our noses to spite our faces. That is-- some of us would forsake our conveniences so that we can feel better about ourselves. All these concepts... they are so ludicrous, but as humans, we are so attached to these ideas... these... models...
Fear. It produces a very distinct 'burning knot' sensation in one's chest. Confronting it feels like fire through the very heart of you. Right now, it is difficult for me to explore, since I am easily distracted. The things that would typically make me cringe--things like rotting veins of flesh on my body-- I can see them when I close my eyes... but I don't feel fear when I see them because I am aware that I am controlling them. It would be redundant to fear the product of one's own mind, but if that were the intention, would that mean I was unsuccessful? Or not entirely, as I continue to flip-flop about this like a dying fish? The images are funny-- hardly fearful.
You're probably asking, 'why fear? Why do you -want- to feel fear? Right now, of all times? Are you FUCKING NUTS?' Yeah, I guess that's your answer.
I'm trying to come up with the most terrifying means by which my existence would consume itself... but to no avail. Odd.
Is it because I want to be able to feel real fear without being in real danger? What is this human obsession with being close to that? Because we can barely touch it, perhaps....
I might be thinking too much...
...Oh my god it hasn't been ten minutes.
Revelation two seconds into pissing:
Remember, the key is to embrace my mind rather than eviscerate it.
I know I've had a good trip when all the muscles I've used for fucking have officially been labelled 'overused'. The lovely headswimming details of which, I'm afraid, I must deprive you all... but for the record... this has been a definitively positive experience.
Well, I suppose images of anthropomorphized drugs swimming in pools of liquid of questionable origin will have to suffice.
Without any surprise, I must note this powerful hallucingen's near-miraculous qualities in the right hands while simultaneously remarking on the immutable truth of the following quote: 'with the ability to help comes the ability to harm'.
Anything involving the mind can be thought of as a jigsaw puzzle. All the pieces are there. I just have to pick out the pieces and arrange them myself. Just as this drug can make a mind whole again, it has the ability to completely shatter one. It doesn't really matter whether that happens by my own hands or someone else's, the potential to go in either direction is still there.
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