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11:18 a.m. / January 08, 2008- - 2cb
i've had a few psychedelics sitting around my house, and i've never considered them to be a hard drug, so last night some friends and I took some 2CB. the first hour and a half was one of those, as hunter s thompson would say, hellishly nightmarish introspective journeys. while everyone else played super smash brothers (they said they were tripping so hard that all they could do was stare at the screen; if they looked away, bad things happened). meanwhile it was just me and the world, walking around, confused, scared shitless, thinking about the immensity of the city around me and the manner in which people isolate themselves in clothes and buildings. we are stacked on one another. our whole civilization is just layer after layer after layer of things, roads, buildings built on top of one another. once i stepped outside i realized i couldn't spend my time tripping inside of the house. it felt too limited. too much like a cage. so i hit the streets on my own for a bit, walking in the immense clouds of fog that covered minneapolis last night. it was already trippy, seeing that much fog, and the 2-cb really elevated that trip. i was having an awfully hard time discerning from which directions sounds came and all around me there was a blending of colors into sound, flashing lights that i knew were not there but which made themselves obvious to me.
after awhile i went inside to get my coat. i had no sense of balance in my tiny bedroom and kept falling over, reaching at piles of clothes, hoping that one would be my jacket. i found it eventually, and then my fellow trippers ended up leaving with me to go on a walk to prospect park. on the walk there i began to feel more at ease, just observing the human city. the towers of stone and steel. the light poles, i had never realized how big and imposing there are. that is their job, after all: to be notice. but still. what about the people who don't want to drive cars? are they forced to deal with it or move away from their homes? that seems very sad to me.
i stepped into a bunch of snow and got my feet wet but could not tell. at first i worried about pneumonia but that worry soon faded into boyish wonder and excitement. i fell sideways into unyielding snow here and there as we made our trek. at one point, we found a sign for some church gathering. the header said, "Turning Towards the Light" and had some days. on January 6th, the event was, "Celebrate New Elevator". none of us could figure out what in the fuck that meant, and this made us laugh very hard. at this point i felt as though i head read that before, and it seems likely that they re-use the same data file for the church function every year, as it had no mention of what year it was anywhere on it. more than that, i felt a deja vu about the who walk to the prospect park tower. another interesting thing on the piece of paper, which was laminated very nicely, was the next days event, after the celebration of the new elevator. the next event was, "Singing Charles Westley Hymns". now, none of us could quite figure out that charles westley was the name of a human, so that group of words seemed especially funny. and we laaaughed.
the hill climb at prospect park was very steep. my shoes had excellent grip on the slippery ice, and i made it up very easily. my other three companions fell all over the place, slipping, falling, and laughing very much. at the summit railing, i noticed that the trees really appeared to be breathing. the side of the tower had some spray paint art on it. it was a city skyline, with the tower in the middle, flying saucers all over the sky, one of them being the witches hat on the top of the tower. the words, "The Invasion is Near" were on the tower, and i really dug the work, and though about if flying saucers did appear over the city, how that would be. people would see these giant.. machines.. energy beings in the sky and freak out. nobody would no WHAT the hell was going on. i would be ready for that sensation. because i realize that i do not know anything. i realize that all of human civilization is the convincing of others and ourselves that we know things, when, in reality, we're actors. we make it up. we make it credibly. we believe it.
on the other side of the tower there was more spray paint and we all gazed at it and pondered what it was. alex and i thought the paint was fresh and was stuck on our hands, but it wasn't, as confirmed by zach, who had taken an older 2cb, and who wasn't feeling anything really. i wasn't tripping quite so hard at this point and it became a really, very pleasant experience. there was a long hill path down to university avenue, and we looked at it for a bit, then i decided to slide down on my butt. it worked so excellently, i got some good speed and my pants were perfect for it. it didn't seep through at all. i realized that we were basically all just acting like little kids, playing in the fog, investigating strange treasures, having FUN with our world and that some people would be very upset by what we are doing, as it could threaten the illusion that they need to be serious and uptight in this world. we found our authentic selves and boy was it awesome. alex slid down after me, then zach, then aaron. we walked kind of close to the road and when i saw a car coming i ran and dove into the bushes. alex followed. in the bushes, he found a stick, which he grabbed. he squatted down, and waved his stick at me, poking, saying, "get away, i'm pooping" and this made us laugh immensely. this is where we came from, after all. territoriality as marked by feces. we went down the hill a few more times then walked out to university avenue. it was only 1:30am, but the street was completely empty, and fogged over. we all stood in the middle of it. zach sat down in an intersection. there were no cars coming.
suddenly, alex and i thought we heard a car. i ran into a building entry side, and alex found a corner to hide in. aaron walked out of the intersection, and zach stayed. it turns out alex and i were just hearing noises either made up, or from farther away, traveling well in the dense fog. on the walk home we saw brick under the blacktop, a glimpse of what the road used to look like, and this furthered the idea of human civilization building upon itself, reaching endlessly towards the heavens. how high up are we now? how long we will continue this madness? and is that madness? is it madness to build and build and build things that our spirits do not need? or is it madness to lay contented in the wilderness?
there were many parked cars. and we thought about cars, how useless they are without people. they are simply waiting to be used. they sit endlessly, forever if need be, and wait for an operator. that must be a lonely existence. home at last, i observed the tree outside of our house. it was drooping, it had a plastic bag in it, and it looked as though it was struggling to breath, to me. i felt sad for the tree that lived in our polluted air. the tree that shot up still through the layers of human civilization and garbage. the tree that KNEW how to live. i jumped up a few times, and grabbed the plastic bag out of it after some misses and falls. inside the house the living room was orange and jacob was playing a boxing game on nintendo 64. his boxer was an elderly, white-haired black man with a saucy mustache, american flag gloves and trunks, a nicely balding head, and his name was Sweet Sugar Pusspuss, which made us laugh for a very long time. such a sad polygon creature. we all sat and talked about our walk and our feelings of the night, the near schizophrenic moments of group sensation, and this time, i felt at ease in the house instead of like it was totally effing evil. a little later we ate pizza, the crust was really soggy and the cheese was totally burnt, but who really cares. it's all slop anyhow. i wished for fruit.
i longed for the fruit of the earth.
the entire night alex and i played harmonicas periodically. it helped to bring us some small comfort while tripping our balls off. we played some old nintendo 64 games. goldeneye was completely hilarious, to the point where i was crying and couldn't remember how to laugh or i was laughing and the tears were there and yet not there. how do i move? how do i shoot? what the fuck is going on? how did i used to love this game? why was i proud of being good at it? what a waste! but good for a laugh. we played a few more games for about 15 minutes each, laughing at the novelty, then they fellas packed a bowl. i took a few hits (i'm feeling pretty normal today, a bit of a neckache, don't plan on smoking until, if then, after my next psychedelic experience), laid on the side of the futon, then the floor, and eventually faded into sleep. i woke up about an hour or so ago and i'm pretty hungry so i'm gonna make some breakfast. i am, ultimately, happy with my second 2-CB experience.
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