What the Actual Heck

Saturday, June 21, 2014 K.Z. Freeman 0 Comments

It is generally realized that I have a natural aptitude for psychotropic substances of questionable origin. Particularly those that may or may not cause one to question his own mental stability. Or instability.

Knowing this about yourself is sort of comforting. Only not very.

My friend and I call them wondrous molecular compositions. Stuff that can make you lose the ability to can. Although the phenomena of "losing one's ability to can" can be sort of scary, it's why people say “I can’t even,” in the first place.

Jolly good, then.

I lie to myself by telling myself that this aptitude is due to a particularly cunning morphic resonance cascading down (or up) through the dimensional fields until the matter in my brain-meat is stimulated to the point of "Yeah, why not, let's see where this takes me."

This sort of thinking usually does not end well. At least that's what others would like me to think. But I regret nothing. Not yet.

I was not high up on a mountain this time. Not physically, in any case.
All that happened happened quite suddenly and without warning. Which is how things usually happen anyway. Unless you're a turtle.

So there I was, minding my own business (slacking), when suddenly a wild molecule called DMT appeared.

The dosage I used would make the wise frown with disapproval, so it was good that none of them were strutting about. 
I inhaled and, for a while I felt very, "Myes, Quite, Indeed," until my mind went mad.

Okay, madder.

The universe sang to me. Literally. All right, not literally, but I did hear an odd hum of synchronous rhythm resonating at a pitch I had not encountered before. The odd thing about it though, is that it came accompanied by a distinct sense that, while the sound was indeed within Myself, it was also out there, in the void, as it were.

It was the void.

Not as a normal sound is, but so deeply embedded into intrinsic reality that it goes by unnoticed while the mind is looking and I had, by inhaling, managed to coax it out of its little hole. Although that hole is actually infinitely big. 

I stopped looking and it in turn looked at me.

I would have been scared if it wasn’t for the fact that I was not. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?

In these instances it is funny how one’s mind conjures up all sorts of stupid ideas about what is happening.

While the explanation that the sound I am hearing is nothing more than a change in my natural ear pressure and the resulting hum is fine and all, it is not as fantastic as the thought that I had heard the sound of creation. Or the sound of background radiation. Or the hum of a cosmic TV tuned to a dead channel and finding out it's not actually dead. Or the sound of space expanding. Or even the Great Om. For all I know all of these are actually one and the same thing. Anyway, it (the sound) kept pulling me towards something. Something both an infinite distance away and at the same time right here, now, everywhere.

Perhaps my lotus position made me see what I saw next, or at least put the idea of it in my head.

I saw Me.

And I was laughing at me.

Here is how it happened.

From the kaleidoscopic pattern of shifting, concave circles, a red-blue Me appeared sitting in the same position I was sitting, pulsing and looking at me since the beginning of all things and mind-casting that he will be sitting there until I get a grip and realize I don't have a grip. And even then I/Him/Me shall still be sitting there for some obscure reason. A reason that was probably not so terribly important. Or the most important. Probably both.

I resisted the sound’s pull because that's what dumb apes do. I resisted until all of a sudden there was no more point to it.

I stayed right there yet was somewhere else.

But that's not the weirdest part. After the universe had ceased its song, a new one appeared. I say appeared because sound seemed to enjoy being a visual menace. It didn't hurt, it was just that sound itself decided it will act all weird for a bit. Probably to freak me out. 

It worked.

Fortunately only for a second, because a shape which looked remarkably (and by remarkably a mean exactly) like Shiva, appeared before me. HeShe stood on one leg with the other bent as though sitting, and began to do this weird dance. It made me smile.
The above GIF looks exactly what the dude was doing.

His motions created all that was me and all that will ever be. And all of that was also me. And I thought to myself, "Hmm, that's rather odd, that. But in the best way possible."

The whole thing felt profoundly fantastic.

After it was over I was somewhat disappointed. Not because of the fact that I did it, but because despite all greatness, I couldn't help but feel that I have experienced profoundly more subtle feelings of bliss and wonder while in meditation – not high at all. At least not propelled to such height by any substance I had taken. I loved the experience even more because of this fact.

In its own way it showed me how we already have the best things inside us already, we simply need to learn how to access them. Work at them. Being able to do it only on occasion somehow adds an extra thrill to existence. It makes you strive. 

It adds a certain subtle element of danger. 

Short cuts to insights that most of us are looking for simply don't exist. At least not in a truly meaningful sense. You begin to rely on drugs to bring you to that place again, forgetting it is always there.
Because sadly, drugs will always lie to you. You are easy to lie to yourself. They can give you a false sense that answers lie out there. Somewhere. They hide this truth because they wrap it in their own self. They forge you into a lie that is searching for truth.

But answers are already here. Within. We fear to look because the lie can be more comforting. A comforting tale. But still only a tale.

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