biostar
seeing stars turned inside out we thought our minds had flipped
hope.
____________________________
All I used to hear was silence.
The steady pitter-patter of nothingness that filled my ears with its unbearable noise. The silence accompanied the way that memories slipped through my fingers like ragged silk, the way that thoughts would form and flash behind my eyes, and the way that an escape was quickly found then lost in half the time.
Silence was the most unbearable noise. I would cover my ears and scream to ensure that it was drowned out.
The echoes reverberated off of my skull and caused tears of pain to steam down from empty sockets of my once buzzing head. All power was lost. And the darkness was no longer electrifying and dangerous; it was dead – the electricity gone and the batteries exhausted. I could sense the ongoing blur of everyday life; the people, the constant moving – yet I was fumbling around in the darkness, lost and confused; taking nothing in, and giving nothing back. Then; there was a spark; a small light – briefly and then stronger – a spark of hope. Hope that not all was lost, that darkness was not the only thing in my life, that somewhere, out there; someone could rescue me.
Fumbling quicker and quicker, working myself into frenzy; I tried to ignite the fuse again. The spark gave me hope, and a purpose, and the darkness was becoming all too familiar for my liking – I needed change, something new, yet I needed the old energy back.
And suddenly, the spark ignited, and the generators started, and the sockets were shocked back to life and the darkness was lifted.
I was electricity.
Sealed with a kiss.
____________________________
All I used to hear was silence.
The steady pitter-patter of nothingness that filled my ears with its unbearable noise. The silence accompanied the way that memories slipped through my fingers like ragged silk, the way that thoughts would form and flash behind my eyes, and the way that an escape was quickly found then lost in half the time.
Silence was the most unbearable noise. I would cover my ears and scream to ensure that it was drowned out.
The echoes reverberated off of my skull and caused tears of pain to steam down from empty sockets of my once buzzing head. All power was lost. And the darkness was no longer electrifying and dangerous; it was dead – the electricity gone and the batteries exhausted. I could sense the ongoing blur of everyday life; the people, the constant moving – yet I was fumbling around in the darkness, lost and confused; taking nothing in, and giving nothing back. Then; there was a spark; a small light – briefly and then stronger – a spark of hope. Hope that not all was lost, that darkness was not the only thing in my life, that somewhere, out there; someone could rescue me.
Fumbling quicker and quicker, working myself into frenzy; I tried to ignite the fuse again. The spark gave me hope, and a purpose, and the darkness was becoming all too familiar for my liking – I needed change, something new, yet I needed the old energy back.
And suddenly, the spark ignited, and the generators started, and the sockets were shocked back to life and the darkness was lifted.
I was electricity.
Sealed with a kiss.
I wish I could be happy at home.
But my father can't even afford basic medication for me.
We're going bankrupt.
We're losing a lot.
It scares me, I don't know what to do.
Because things are so messed up at my dad's, I'm considering moving to Ontario with my mom.
At least I'd have proper health care, food, and money in my pocket.
But I couldn't leave Jordan behind...
I wouldn't be able to do that.
I'd rather suffer and put up with all the difficulties going on in my life right now and be able to see him on a regular basis then having everything and seeing him once every few months.
I just don't know anymore.
I'm so scared.
But my father can't even afford basic medication for me.
We're going bankrupt.
We're losing a lot.
It scares me, I don't know what to do.
Because things are so messed up at my dad's, I'm considering moving to Ontario with my mom.
At least I'd have proper health care, food, and money in my pocket.
But I couldn't leave Jordan behind...
I wouldn't be able to do that.
I'd rather suffer and put up with all the difficulties going on in my life right now and be able to see him on a regular basis then having everything and seeing him once every few months.
I just don't know anymore.
I'm so scared.
I'm tired of going without food for days on end.
Maybe it's time to look for a job.
Maybe it's time to look for a job.
the psychonautica narrative.
drugs
Many people, particularly those unacquainted with chemical experimentation, find my blunt enthusiasm towards altered states of consciousness somewhat unsettling. The purpose of this journal entry is to explain my reasons for doing what I do, as well as to hopefully eliminate some of the "stupid teenager just trying to rebel and be cool before they grow out of this whole phase" stereotype that most individuals of my particular mindset are unfortunately and unfairly viewed with by the majority of a prejudiced, mislead and fearful society.
I can say I am deeply fascinated by drugs. Their potential for unimaginable revelation and insight, experience and epiphany; they are potent and unpredictable tools for the mind, and quite often, sadly, are not handled with the caution and respect they require and deserve.
Love is a bit strong of a word for anything, just the same as hate, although I admit to being very, very fond of LSD in particular.
I fail to see how it's destined to rob me of my humanity; as I've said many times before, acid doesn't turn you into a psychotic raving brain-dead crack-addicted emaciated abscess-ridden homeless junkie living under a bridge who'll knife their friends for a single hit. All it'll really do is open up your personality, show you what's really lying at the bottom of your mind and maybe make you a bit crazier in the process. I like drugs, and in turn, I hate them. I've had some shitty experiences with them, just as I've had some absolutely mind-blowing rapturous revelations and ecstasies with them. It's like anything else in life, but to a strange and occasionally dangerous extreme. There's never anything neutral about them, you're always experiencing something incredibly powerful.
I'm not someone who's constantly eating drugs just for the sake of eating drugs, as an unfortunate majority of people who fit into the 'drug culture' can be described - because it's 'glamorous', because it's 'alternative', because my friends do it, because I'm trying to do the whole stupid teenage rebellion fuck the man thing. I'm in it because I have a burning curiosity about everything powerful and earth-shattering in life, and I crave the experience and the knowledge that comes with it. I'm more or less done sating my curiosity with substances at this point in time; I've seen, done, eaten, snorted, smoked and drank many, many things. I never have, and never will, inject drugs. Some made me hate myself, my life and everything in it, some made me love everything in the universe for the simple and staggering beauty of existence itself. The excruciatingly miserable lows I've endured have given me all the more appreciation for the heart-stopping sublime ecstasies of the highs.
I'm going to describe to you the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed in my life. It was a full-lit milky way on a clear, bright summer night on the first two hits I did of some extremely pure and potent acid. Brilliant, frenzied kaleidoscopic gems spattered about the night sky, swimming and writhing amongst each other in a prismatic rainbow sea of ethereal and indescribable incandescence. I could see every single star in the sky, every planet, every sun, every minute and beautiful burning spear and point of swirling light. No picture, no painting, no mere words coined by simple mortals can possibly ever describe to anyone who has never seen what my mind showed me that one night the cataclysmic brilliance of the stars that rained through the sky.
I sobbed my eyes out, because it was simply the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my entire life, more beautiful than anything I had ever even known could possibly exist. I sat down, stared at the sky with three of my friends and cried, because the beauty, the beauty, the unfathomable wondrous existence of the world around me was overwhelming. I lived in a beautiful world, and suddenly, I understood it. Tears of pure joy poured from my eyes as my mind filled with glowing pools of ectoplasmic liquid stardust, shifting and transporting me across the face of the galaxy. It changed me, forever. I don't know if I'll ever witness anything as magnificent as that again in my life, and I am grateful that, for that one night, I got to glimpse what most people will pass through their lives never even knowing exists. Nobody will ever see those stars the same way I did, and the memory is something I will carry with me and treasure deeply to my death.
Experiences like this are what make it worthwhile. This is what justifies my choices, defines them.
I am a psychonaut at heart, an explorer delving into the chaotic depths of the uncharted and surreal human subconscious, and these are my reasons for being so.
I know what the experience holds for me, and it's quieted that curiosity that constantly gnaws at the back of my skull. I am by absolutely no means finished with them; I'm fairly certain I'll be using them on and off throughout the duration of my life. I'm a terminally curious person, and I'm doomed to wander the earth in a state of constant unrest and explore anything and everything that captivates my interest. My journeys into these outer worlds have certainly provided material for and fueled my art, and changed the way I think and view things.
I've weathered many pains and pleasures, and i don't regret a single thing I've done. I've made mistakes, I've suffered catastrophic consequences, but I'd do it all over again.
Drugs have shown me many things, tortured me into submission and deluged me with orgasmic pleasures; and through it, through all the ups and downs, all the journeys and experiences, what they have done most of all is bestowed upon me an immense respect, and love for, life and everything in it. these are my reasons.
I simply feel the need to explain myself, because most people simply look at the bad side of drugs from people who get stupid and abuse them, and in turn look down on everyone involved with them. Drugs are tools for the subconscious, and very, very volatile ones. If you can use them correctly, be very delicate and precise, they can show you many things and you will benefit immensely as a human being. I know I have. But once you lose your grip, once they sink their hooks in you, once you lose control, you become yet another statistic and sad victim of the double-edged sword of mind and mood altering chemicals.
I do the things I do because I personally choose to do them and have reasons for doing so; mainly, I'm god damned fucking curious. It'll get me killed one day, but until it does, it makes my life worth living. I cannot stand a blank, safe existence. I cannot stand staying in one place, staying in white walls, staying in a sterile environment where every inch is regulated and inspected and approved for my safety. It would kill me far faster than the drugs.
that is all.
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