Chemical enhancement day... Not for the faint of mind.

Acid, LSD, Trips, call em what you will. I love em.

There are currently 3 acid trips buzzing around in my system, along with a rather nice Mitsubishi (kindly donated by Spongebob...) that I just swallowed about fifteen minutes ago.

Terence McKenna is talking about DMT through the headphones I'm wearing and I can hear the TV in the background. My senses are jangled and jarred as all these differing mediums attempt to cut through the fog. My thoughts, even though totally focused, are somewhat liquid. I'm beginning to sweat as the Mitsubishi kicks in and I can feel pulses of energy passing through me.

Steff (my friend) is watching Worlds Wildest Videos and there is a story about Randy Hicks chasing tornadoes that subsequently decide "fuck you bubba..." and turn on him and his truck and throw them about like socks in a washing machine... The next clip is of Travis Pastrana knocking himself unconscious in Mexico... Followed by a clip of an out of control car, driven by a 74 year old woman who has no license, slamming into a mother and her two kids. Broken legs and scars are all the family suffers and probation is the punishment for grandma.

All these things cause me to want to rage at the TV... "Stop showing these fear filled views of the world you satanic fuck. Show us pictures that give us HOPE!"

I fight the urge, as I don't think me going into a drug fuelled frenzy would be good for Spodge who is tidying her room. I'm dragging deep on my cigarette but this doesn't satiate my nicotine craving. Such is the desire for nicotine NOW! that I can't inhale deep enough.

Jefferson Airplane is now playing and the White Rabbit is called upon. All things are good. With the exception of the screen in front of me which appears to be pulsating... Oops. Have I gone too far this time? I hope not. I'm rather enjoying the feeling. It is, for want of a better word, INTENSE. I feel I am floating on a little fluffy cloud. Rushes pass through me and I am struggling to keep an anchor on my thoughts. "Ground the energy you fucker!" Screams the disembodied voice of Hunter S Thompson in my mind.

The Good Doctor is gone but his spirit remains. Good for him. Skyhighatrists such as myself need his spirit at times like these. A friendly voice is always needed. More so when there are chemicals coursing through your veins and the words you are trying to type are mangled and jangled so it looks like a mouse has ran across the keyboard.

I'm sorely tempted not to correct my typing from here on in, so as to let you see how hard I'm fighting for control, but you wouldn't have a fucking clue what I was trying to say. So, fuck that. It would all be gibberish...

Steff has just handed me a coffee and boy oh boy it tastes good. Really good. Better than coffee should reasonably taste. But reason is well gone now... There is no reason... No reason to go all out and take 3 trips and a small tablet of MDMA but sometimes these things must be done. If only to reset the internal compass that points to where you need to go.

And I'm in need of direction at the moment... DAMN IT! The coffee is finished. The caffeine adds to the rushes and I'm sweating hard now. I feel the urge to go dancing. But I hate dancing. So fuck that. Besides there aren't many clubs open at 5:30pm and those that are will not play the music I want to hear.

I sate my lust for music by kicking Mike Oldfields Tubular Bells II onto the media player seeking out The Bell, turning it up and attempting to absorb the sounds into my subconscious...

I dunno, the fucked up ideas you have when surfing along on a wave of LSD and MDMA. Logic goes out the window in a heartbeat and insanity is welcomed. But not full on insanity, no, that would be plain old fashioned silly. I'm not in search of insanity, I'm in search of truth.

Whatever truth may be.

Is truth merely an illusion? In searching do you find truth, or does reality adapt to prevent you from seeing The Truth. Fucked if I know. Ho ho. But I'll keep searching and chemicals will continue to be my guide.

I'm now considering the potential backlash from my mother about this post. Oh boy, is this going to take some explaining... "I made it up." may not cover this one... But fuck it. It's about time my mother accepted I'm a failed seeker who still hungers for some kind of meaning, some kind of reason, some kind of affirmation that this life is not all for nothing.

...Momma,
Your boy, the one you call Ross, loves you more than you will ever realise. But please remember he needs to do these things to find some kind of rationale for this life...

(Tubular Bells has now reached the track Altered State.)

The words Altered State cause freeassociative thoughts to cascade through my mind but there is no chance of grabbing them all and writing them down, so I let them flow and relish the moment. The passing moment that never ends. This moment is only a dream, this Time is but a phantom...

(I kill Tubular Bells as Surrealistic Pillow has finished downloading and I kick it into life.)

It's been a long time since I heard surrealistic pillow in it's entirety. Long enough for me to have forgotten it almost entirely. Small snippets seem familiar but I'm not sure if this is merely an effect of the acid coursing through me.

Surrealistic Pillow is a superb album to listen to without chemical enhancement. With chemical enhancement it's off the fucking scale. It sweeps and soars like an albatross on the ocean. Waves are the only company for these creatures...

As waves are the only company for human beings at times. Be they sound waves, light waves or emotional waves. It's all peaks and troughs. Highs and lows. Ups and downs. As the Good Doktor would say, "Buy the ticket, take the ride." What the good Doktor should have added was that the ride is sometimes scary and sometimes enlightening, but never the less the ride must be taken.

But to what point and purpose is The Ride? Is this life a learning curve? Or just the product of random chance... Ask yourself those questions. Try not to think too hard or you may cause yourself to change forever. Change, once done, cannot be undone. You can't take back the ideas you had and revert to who you were before The Incident.

Whatever The Incident was you, having experienced it, are changed. For good or for ill.