A man of strange substance
that knows not why he does
this to himself. The chance
that he might be someone
who'd experience something,
But without the drugs that
give him a grand illusion
of power
over chance,
Over a bundle
of drives that rule
fate. "Whoever fights
monsters should see to it
that in the process he does not
become a monster. And if you gaze
long enough into an abyss, the abyss
will gaze back into you." Grand so.

Some hexen and a few cans? Grand.
Some 2C-T-2 and DCK? Grand.
Some more 4-MEC? Grand.
What'll we have today?
Will it make any difference?
Who is this person at the reigns?
This alchemical dabbling, these habits
of mine, there's something right about this
curiosity
among all the despair and wrong decisions
that surround it. Of course, I've made mistakes
in the past, let slip this and that;
My composure recovered
but my self-esteem's
been beat down
by others, and that's
why I first turned to these
things. It is a pity drug use is
not so well-respected as a practice
when it extends beyond the jurisdiction
of medicine, there's more to psychoactivity
than poison, remedy or scapegoat.

This passion of mine spans from sacred to academic.
Please extend me the courtesy of recognizing intellect.
We are, all of us, thinking beings. I am merely trying to make my thoughts more apparent, to clarify this thing we term experience.
We are the interesting animal, creatures of language and game.
Where does all this fit in, those things we may choose to do?
That's all I ask. That's why I do this. I wonder where it is
I am headed, but the only thing I spend too much time
questioning are my instincts. I must trust in myself,
How else does one succeed?

These refractions of character
are a tiresome habit, but necessary.

The Oran rain patters against my home,
The wind breaks upon the house
and I lie in bed
feeling comfortably alone.

I need to sort my life, move on from this town,
Need to stop being on my own, want to give myself
away, want someone to take me
far away. I'd willingly lose myself
to another, a city or a person; the other,
Me. Is this narcissism? Can I just be happy,
Or must I change so radically
in order to escape?

The real work must begin,
This aimlessness must end before it becomes
ceaseless in its expansion. All I have are words
and melodies, moments in experience that will be lost to all
time. I might as well craft an album, and nod to all I've felt
and've left to feel. Music keeps me alive, 's the only thing
sometimes.

Why are my feelings so complicated?
Things should be simple.
Did I relapse last weekend?
I can feel the hunger, the drive
to consume substance; apotheogenesis.

4ll these wor1ds inside 3ach of u5,
4ll just wyrds in 7ime.

Ate some Syrian Rue after breakfast,
Peganum Harmala, its alkaloids act as
reversible inhibitors of monoamine oxidase [RIMA].
The principle active alkaloid is Harmine.
RIMAs prevent the break-down of
some neurotransmitters.
Consequently it interacts
with most drugs, and even foodstuffs rich in tryptophan.
An informed and responsible user
can safely manage their diet to minimize adverse effects.
I must say I enjoyed that day I could feel,
Though the day after had quite a few moments of doubt.
What's more, it was interesting to get higher
as a result of simply having a meal.
I am happy with the experience.

Threw a couple benzos in the mix yesterday
which was very unlike me, but it paid off;
The time was spent at a good friend's house.

Started with clonazolam (not to be confused
with clonazpam), this designer benzodiazepine
is as potent as xanax but with a longer duration
of between 6-10 hours. Abuse often leads to blackout
states and it has been dis-affectionately nicknamed 'clam'.
Being cautious of any compound active in the microgram range,
At first I ingested only a fifth of the illicitly pressed tablet.
It had light but noticeable effects which cooled my mind enough
that I consider dipping my toe in my preferred class of compound.

Perhaps an hour later I insuffulated 2mg
of 2,5-Dimethoxy-4-methylthioamphetamine,
Better known as DOT, the first of the Aleph series.
This produced a bare threshold of effects, including
minor thought acceleration (to counter the benzo)
and a hint of warmth throughout my body.
I left it at that. It is a good sign for future inquiries
into that rather mysterious series of compound.

Later still, I wrestled with whether or not to try another benzo
which was gifted to me when I mentioned I had never tried it.
Chlordiazepoxide, in this case going by the brand name Librium.
Prescribed to treat anxiety, insomnia and symptoms of withdrawal,
It has a half-life of between 5-30 hours. However,
An active metabolite of chlordiazepoxide (and also diazepam)
is nordiazepam - active for between 36-200 hours.
Can you imagine taking a drug which lasts eight days?
Hence my hesitation.
After some consideration (fifteen minutes of quick research
followed by fifty minutes of feeling the psychological weight
of the pill on my palm), I ingested a small black and blue capsule
marked "LIB 10mg". Of course, such a small amount
would not be in my system for so long.

Shortly thereafter two of us went down to the shop.
I floated through the isles, settling upon a carton of apple juice.
A slight but nonetheless uncommon feeling of happiness struck
me during our walk back. The fresh air was good, I could feel
the vague comfort of distinct experience. Perhaps this reads
as if it's nonsense, and I know it, but a sensation reached
out to me from my past, recognition of the pattern of being
I was currently pursuing, a mindset.
I suggested we split a small dose
of an exotic trip I'd been saving.

It's duration was appropriately
short, 3-6 hours. We ate 7.5mg
of 5-Methoxy-N,N-diallyltryptamine,
Commonly referred to as 5-MeO-DALT.
I believe I have had the honor of bestowing
upon it the colloquial name Foxtrot.

It probably did not effect us much,
I certainly could barely distinguish its
effects in the mix. Silly of me really, I don't
even like benzos, I had just been in a bad place
recently; this session reminded me I did not need
to escape anything, everything I once loved
is within reach. I'd give some credit for that insight
to the influence of psychedelics, despite the
quieting presence of axiolytics. Ultimately,
Insight is not a product of any drug. It stems
from experience, and no substance can dispute
the immutable metaphysics of mind,
Whatever its form may be.

There's pain in me still
and I don't know how to
feel it. I don't blame anyone
except myself. I tend towards
sadness over anger, default to it.
Every morning I wake up and feel
my own judgement swallow me,
Only to spit out my dreams
and tantalize me with
undischarged tears.

Another sleepless night spent
messing with synthesizers, drum
machines and groove-boxes. Music
may have stalled my flow of words
but I dream of joining them together
and spinning songs out into the world.
I wonder when this penchant for insomnia
will create something worthy.
The storm outside is howling
and my mind drifts towards
philosophy, a thought of
pharmacophenomenology.

What of a philosophy
of psychoactivity?
What does a philosophy of drugs entail
if we are to do it justice?
Will it help us better assess the cognitive
component of substances, their suitability
for patients? Is there more to psychology
than cognition? Will it help us appraise
those supposedly ineffable qualities
of mind? Will it help us understand
the patterns humans engage themselves in?
Will it help one follow the string, the thread,
The knots and narratives that we are composed of.
These are valuable enough questions for me to justify
developing the pharmacophenomenological method.

Once upon a time
there was a young adult
who spent time on the dark web,
Searching for the most obscure and exotic substances humanity could offer.

Late nights tracking down vendors with the most up-to-date wares:
Drugs.
Research chemicals,
Novel psychoactive substances.
Illicit pharmaceuticals and exotic materials.
Pills, powder, liquid, tabs, any material one could find.
Uppers, downers, dissos, deliriants,
Psyches, anti-psyches, stimulants,
Depressants, anti-depressants,
*** drugs, study drugs,
'noids, 'roids, and
even vitamins.

There was the standard battery of illegal narcotics,
******* knockoffs of more popular drugs,
Drugs designed to evade anti-doping tests
and then the more experimental stuff.

Suffice to say this part of the internet is a strange and lawless world.
Not like the Wild West, more like the backstreets of Seoul.

The goal was nothing more than knowledge
of this rapidly evolving-world.

One night a vendor's listing flagged their attention
and on an intuition they acquired
a batch of synthetic cannabinoids for nothing.
A few days later a letter arrived
containing several unlabeled bags of power.

It took many months to even partially identify them.
The vendor went dark before the results came in.

One compound was entirely novel. It did not have a name
so it was assigned one. It did not have a history of human use
but had entered the wild human populace.

After identification they were destroyed.
The properties of that novel compound remain unknown.