Dopamine addict itched for a serotonin fix,
Gazing into this sonder mirror,
The craving for opia hit.

Staring down mydriasis, shooting up
with the metaphysics. Consigned to it,
Being strung out on ∃xistence, whatever
depth you'd ascribe to it. Know that passion
is incandescent, embrace peace as effervescent;

Lost in the gaze of fall liberty,
Rainy daze in winter ecstasy.
Found in a maze of spring empathy,
Azure haze of summer vibrancy.

Mescalito tornado on desert sands,
Shroom typhoon on distant shores,
∀cid cyclone on the horizon,
Pharmahuasca maelstrom
drank the earth.

Ion chaser ate a hurricane
and thus The Empyrean was born.

I found that writing worked best for me,
Like taking ecstasy, it let me be intimate
not just with others but with myself.

Ek-stasis,
Meaning to stand outside of oneself,
A removal to elsewhere, for the time being/a while is enough.

Now mark my words, what worked for me ain't necessarily
what will work for ye, after all,
Some people prefer drawing.

I find that music, dance
or any kind of exercise helps,
At the end of the day we're all just looking for what works best.

Consciousness is chasing your dreams,

In what sense does thought exist?
Do we qualify it as an experience?

Try to look beyond processing power
when you think memory and context;

Tell me what dreams are made of and
why are there so many stars out there?

A trenchant thought cut through the rest
to jolt me out of this haze (I savour), and
as the noxious redolence of Aetherius left
the fog of Endorphus settled in its stead;
While the mists of the oraculate cast
their insidious shadows upon
my bare chest.

Lughnasadh, Samhain, Imbolc and Beltane shall come to pass!
By harvest, hallows-even, spring and summer will it matter?
Pharmahuasca maelstrom drank the earth.

"Up the 'RA!" It means
'be yourself' in Irish.
Up the 'RA? It means
'beat us up' in Irish.

Can't leave it alone
so we skin up a spliff.
Spark it, have a ****, pass it
and occasionally tip the ashes
of modernity into an empty can
of druids. Leave House and be done
with it, fly away/emigrate, the craic lives on
agus tiocfaidh ar lá.

What are we? Who is us?
How am I? Grant me
ego-death and we
can retire; just
to let us get
high and
higher.