Out on the beautiful mall. The desperate desire to write in the journal because I know that’s what I’ll want later vs just wanting to have fun and look at shit haha. Quite the dilemma. History is written by one very specific side of that argument. Like “present me” is feeling a lot of pressure from “future me”
Okay I will just text myself
I will have to figure out a different way to do this, but typing on my phone while walking around is a good theory
I started walking around the city at this point. Still wanted to write, but the journal was too inconvenient. So the above through 4:59 were all typed into my phone, texted to my email address, and then transcribed here.
It’s an excellent rhythm for how I walk through the city
Plus word suggestions and timestamps and I’m used to it!
Oh I’ve hit a whole better level of commentary
I’m at the department of labor
People seem to be laboring. Carry on
I’m so glad to have the notation issue handled!
I love this hypothetical text conversation. Who am I addressing? Future me / anonymous internet people?
The concrete jungle. What a great metaphor. Was just in New York and it made me think that a lot
This is just a nice day out on the town. I already went to the dentist
Just panicked that I lost my sweater but I did not
Actually it was my scarf I thought I had lost…
Just heard someone talking about an underground website. Possibly
Surprised this isn’t more of a tourist spot
This is where it happens. This is where the government is held accountable!
Tripping and people watching is pretty great
You don’t have whatever usually stops you from sharing people’s mental space in public
Fuck, I guess I should get one?
Nose is cold, slowly walking home
I am walking up town a few blocks east of where I came down. It’s a poorer blacker less gentrified area
What does the word yuppie mean? I was thinking young urban professionals, but others were disputing that and saying it means something else now
I don’t think I really use my version with anyone, so they are probably right
It’s like that episode of Seinfeld where people are calling Kramer a hipster
I can see the split right here actually
Out of the art museum part of town I guess
Is my experience in the moment of my record of it more important?
This bird knows what I’m talking about
Just heard a guy telling a kid he was a little fat crybaby. Brutal!
Fuck I can hear the little bastard shrieking from blocks away though, so I get it
This is my art. Commenting on stuff while on acid.
Had art on the brain by this point clearly.
I keep getting my wires crossed between this and internal monologue… I guess that what I wanted
I think this was prompted by my being about to type something about how I needed to make a right turn coming up, and then realizing that was more of an internal monologue thought.
I am like an astronaut and my sober self is the space program
Anything I don’t bring back is not getting seen
How it works around here is apparently that neighborhoods are like little tribes
And you rep your hood
And I’m passing through all these borders that I’m not aware of
They fuck each other up, but why mess with some random white dude? So out of context
It’s so great knowing that everyone is my friend. It must suck not to feel that way / not actually be that way
But if you are one of my reddit readers, you’re probably fine.
What’s this about? I feel like I’m on a scavenger hunt
The little dude to the right of the number caught my eyes
Look at all that nice stuff, we are gentrifying again!
I keep realizing I need to pee, and then remembering I already have a paln in place and am on my way
I just passed a cool looking couple that smelled like pot
It’s really very nice while walking, just gets cold when you sit and stare
Haha oh no finally took a wrong turn on a street I walk down every day
I’m hearing “a day in the life” with the previous text
“A street I walk down every day” to the tune of “a lucky man who made the grade”
Oh shit I need to turn off autocorrect
I should try this level of moment to moment thought recording sober.
I guess I would be self conscious?
Doesn’t sound so bad
Thinking about how many miles I’ve walked today: a lot.
This is the magic hour
Based on how long it’s been since I took acid
The last couple times I’ve tripped I’ve gone out and done an activity (the zoo and now the museum) for a few hours during the peak, and then headed home. Sometime during the last couple texts I arrived home. The ‘magic hour’ I guess means right after I get back home and can focus on hallucinating after a long walk where I can’t stop and stare at things as much. No more texts.
Trying to get stuff done during the peppy part of “a day in the life”
It’s interesting how relationships with other people change how you think.
[girlfriend’s name] is definitely making me a lot more health conscious. Not even because she’s paying attention to my health (though she is to an extent I guess) but because she is just constantly taking actions based on how they effect her health, her weight, her appearance… I can’t think of the last time I was motivated to do anything by those… traits? Values?
It’s interesting how other people’s mental state influences your own over the long term, just through the things they find important or are concerned about.
I think of [teacher girlfriend’s name] students basically as wild animals. Living in the concrete jungles. They don’t have a decent education. Barely literate. Living in a poor, violent, area.
I think of them as animals not in the sense of devaluing them… but in terms of how much difference there is from my own life. I can most get at it with animal metaphors. Maybe because I was at the zoo the last time I tripped.
Harsh dude. Man I hear stories about these kids in inner city DC schools though, it’s crazy how bad the conditions are, not so much at the school but everywhere else in the kid’s lives. Education is not the solution to poverty, fixing poverty is how you get those poor kids to do better in school.
It’s fun to word vomit all this stuff. This is the first trip where I’ve made a serious effort to record / the first trip where I recorded with the expectation that anyone besides me would hear the recording.
Fuck, I’m definitely getting distracted by my own voice exactly like I did when I was tripping in groups.
Distracted from what? ‘real’ trip experiences I guess? Hallucinating? Not like I’m ‘supposed’ to be doing anything in particular.
If anything the only thing I’m supposed to be doing is writing, that’s the only productive activity I’m working on, the rest is just enjoyment.
I need to change rooms. And smoke some weed.
Haha “Let’s smoke weed about it”
The walk is important to drain energy and timestamps are vital for archaology (explain that sober self)
What my tripping former self colleague is trying to say is that the above entry was in my jouranl, while previous entries had been on the computer. I knew I would eventually be compiling various different records together, and referred to the process of doing so as archeology. Well, ‘archaology’, but give me that one, I was tripping pretty hard. It has been an interesting project already putting this stuff together into semi-readable form, and there’s still much more to do.
Am I part of a whole demographic group of people whose main intellectual activity is this hyper-anonymized communication through the internet?
Like I’ve got my own peer group and everything, but if I’m thinking about engaging with ideas, or things that change the way I think, it’s basically just me reading and commenting on blogs.
That’s a bummer I guess. Like with the ancient greek city stuff from earlier, it would be sweet to … have friends? Haha oh no!
Be part of the intellectual community? Have more of a connection with my city? Have my friends be people I can philosophize with?
Some are I guess, but it’s not something I would really do, unless we were tripping I guess.
Give it up fellow members of that demographic group. I see a bunch of these types when I go to Jacobin magazine reading groups. Also, go hit up the lsd meetups subreddit.
OMG the vape is taking forever to warm up. I have been typing this whole time (above).
Art is so sweet.
Having switched to a keyboard makes me able to type a LOT faster than writing by hand or on my phone.
Not sure if the degree to which that lets me do my exact internal monologue is good or bad
Writing in my journal during the day is very restrictive: it takes a lot of effort to write a little. While typing with the keyboard I can type almost as fast as I can think. Well not really, but much closer!
May have scorched my weed a little, but recovered it! Close call!
I need to check that my text messages to my own email came out in not too annoying of a format…
That part came earlier.
I can probably do that tomorrow though.
When did I post stuff before?
Ugh, I worry I’m giving myself a complex with all the writing. Time for a looking at stuff and not considering how it makes me feel later break. I guess that’s what I always say when I stop writing, and then I get distracted, and see something cool, and then I want to write about it and then I’m back here oh right. On the plus side I’m getting some synesthesia or something with these sentences, so that’s cool. Oh hell no spell check. I may not know how to spell that word, but it is definitely a word!
Okay I need a break.
5:26 (hahaha) PM
I think I was amused by the time because it seemed like it had been an incredibly long time since the previous entry at 5:20. I had written some stuff, decided to stop writing, had a whole hallucinatory experience, and then started writing again. Seemed like a lot for 6 minutes.
Oh right I forgot that weed could take the pain away. Ohhh that’s the best. I get less taken over by this than by the computer.
I should have stayed at the art museum where I’d have something else to write about
By ‘this’ I meant writing in the journal. I had decided to do that in the break from typing on the computer.
I just had / am sort of still having a super awesome hallucaination
I was writing in my journal and my two fingers on my right hand had fallen asleep because of how I was sitting and that was somehow incorporate into the hallucination, like my arm was bending into a space that wasn’t there. And meanwhile I was staring at the journal writing and really focusing on that, and also on all these hallucinations around the journal
Faces and mouths and whatnot
And also in the writing
but I was writing it at the same time. And I was trying to write it down at the same time. Okay you get it. But it ended up looking really cool on the page.
And later that picture will be right there. Boom! Magic like in Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey! In the future it’s there!
Yep, in the future it’s here!
Transcription: Actually now I’m having a great writing based hallucination I’m just seeing stuff I guess and I’m seeing shapes oh shit garbled-garbled-what I can only assume is the secrets of the universe-garble YAY!
And then the next paper journal entry isn’t for many hours.
Oh right anyway, so this stuff on the page looked so cool.
And now I’m the meta part, coming down writing about writing about writing about it. And there’s not really any it except for whatever is on the page and this weird feeling I had.
Fuck I can see how real writers could work themselves into a tizzy.
Or maybe this is how real neurotic people work themselves into a tizzy?
Haha oh boy. I was thinking sort of in loops, about my writing something, and then my going back and reading it again, and then commenting on it (as I’m doing right now) and then posting it out for other people to read. And the whole concept of going around and around like that blew my mind.
Oh, though now I just had a nice hallucination about my big bag of weed filling up sort of like a peacock opening its tail, which fuck is now happening sort of with everything. I think it’s something about how the light from the lamp hits things, it’s right behind me. I will test by looking the other way.
My Volcano vaporizer bag expanding, so beautiful.
Oh shit I think it partially had to do with how I was batting on the keyboard, and that was making it bob up and down on my leg… oh no I see what it is! My shifting weight on the mattress is making the laptop jiggle, and that’s changing how the reflection of the lamp looks in the background. But I lost it in the course of adjusting myself to write this paragraph. This is that same dilemma! Hahaha so frustrating. But now I’m having laughing hallucination from further screen jiggling, so it’s all good.
Okay, maybe on this break I will do more than just reach over to my journal.
O shit I’m having a hallucination where the yay on that same page keeps loookng like a dude, possibly with sunglasses, out of my peripheral vision. He seems to be plottign with other ridiculous drawing people, again, aargh this paragraph is literally being attacked by creatures from my subconscious
Okay I think I will take that as my cue to sign off for a sec, Jesus
I almost feel bad about how amused by my own struggle I am. I decided to leave the spelling as is on the bit above, I think it emphasizes how it felt in the moment. The word ‘yay’ in my journal also sort of looked like a pair of glasses or sunglasses. At some points they were like an anthropomorphic sunglasses man, who also sort of looked like a ‘yay’
Well… Finishing up a much longer period of absence (over an hour!).
Basically decided I had to take a break from writing down my internal monologue before I went nuts. I had to let a lot of clever thoughts and written records of dope hallucinations go down the memory hole, so that I’d accept that it was okay to forgot about things.
Huh, it’s actually coming back a bit when I sit here and type. Not really pleasantly. Ugh, I’m endlessly fiddling with the lighting in this room. There’s a bunch of light switches in different rooms and a dimmer on the main ones and it’s just complicated and annoying and apparently there’s no setting that works regardless of where I sit on the couch. Endless agonies haha.
Delicious Utz Bar-B-Q orange chips. They are my crack. When I was little I didn’t really know what flavor they were supposed to be, they just were what they were. So now I have that childhood memory, and they are amazing. And that’s why junk food companies advertise to kids.
Huh, just realized that means I probably shouldn’t be eating them either…. no it’s too late for me! I need those hedons, and my memories are already formed! Go, save the next generation! Don’t get the children addicted! It’s too late for those of us already born!
Hedons, like a unit of pleasure. I don’t know how common a word that is.
On further reflection I mostly agree with the above, with a few caveats.
Fuck, I forgot what they were.
Oh wait right I forgot! There’s no reason not to recount what I remember from the forgetting-period:
First I took a shower. It was great, as showers tend to be. I hadn’t showered while still really tripping before, so that was an experience. I closed my eyes, and I got this really cool sensation like my eyes were still open, to the extent that I kept wanting to blink , but then realizing my eyes were already closed.
And I would look around and it was like I was in this infinite black void – I guess that’s what it was, I was tricking myself into thinking that what I saw when I had my eyes closed was what was going on around me. And so basically I was using all of my senses in unity to sense my environment, except that my eyes were closed, so vision was just giving some vague perceptions of light, but was made up for by hallucinations. I would reach out and feel the walls of the shower, and it felt like a more complex shape than it was when I had my eyes open. It was interesting going back and forth between the two states, opening and closing my eyes, going from the shower to whatever – trapped in a clear box in some infinite hallucination filled black void.
As I write this now later it seems a little freaky, but it was quite enjoyable at the time.
Another great moment came when realizing I had control over the hot and cold water. Really it was just that some subconscious thought process was wishing the temperature was a little higher, and then I was like “hey buddy, it’s all good, look this thing goes as high as we want it to:”
It was a very pleasant sense of realization, of epiphany sort of. And of course I went to the metaphor of waking up from life. Like you realize that life was just a hallucination. That things you worry about were just something that you got worked up about mid-hallucination because you didn’t remember that it wasn’t really a problem.
Let’s say you are some immortal super-intelligent being in a super-advanced civilization You have everything you want, except one thing: challenge, excitement, danger. You are so powerful that it’s a bit boring. So what’s the intense drug of choice? You go live out a whole regular lifetime of a primitive being (like us) in a simulation with your memories erased and your mind reduced to fit. You get to experience the joys and sorrows of a lowly mortal. And then when it’s over, you die in the simulation, and find yourself waking up in the real world. And things come steadily back to you like at the end of an acid trip. You laugh that you were so concerned about your human problems, that shit has been solved.
Really just another version of the afterlife in a sense I guess – you die and realize everything is awesome after all.
Figured I’d put in a timestamp.
And then I got distracted so it was a good stopping point.
It’s interesting how my subconscious is spreading out into the materials world. Like different parts of my mind can do different things at different times basically independent of each other. No, what does that mean?
Seriously, what does that mean?
Okay new experiment: try typing with your eyes closed:
Okay, I’m typing with my eyes closed.
It’s pretty cool.
The keyboard seems a little separated between my twohands. Like I’m less aware of the space between them, or like they’re in two different places.
It’s a little hard to type. I guess I’m going to jyst eaaccept that there will likely be a ton of typos and move on, and I can clean it up later or not as appropriate. I’m guessing it will lnneeed a lot of cleanupo.
On the other hand I’m going deeper and retaining the keyboard connection.
Dope. It would suck to wake up and realize that I wastyping aoon the wrong keys or sonmetrgungin
Okay, focus.It is like my hnads are nowhere near each other.
I just touched thumbs and it was very centering.
I see shapes. I’m just moving out of the part of the trip where I could just stare at anything it would be going nuts, but there are still things that will make me trip out, just fewer.
Okay, bored of that, taking a break.
Decided to not clean it up, figured the typos add to the eyes closed typing experience.
Just had a nice chat with my roommate about our new fridge. She didn’t even know I was tripping. I wasn’t really trying to hide it or anything, just didn’t come up.
I’m always amazed by how normal I can act when tripping when I want to.
I don’t like that big wad of cream cheese in the middle of a bagel. It’s too much. I just popped it out of this bagel.
And that seems like a good break point. Next up is my trippy self summarizing the plot of the great Alan Moore comic Miracleman for some reason.