The dominant drive is the handle on the reducing valve of consciousness.
Consciousness is not merely received, it flows through us,
And one's body is its conduit.

Being has an active role in its synthesis.
It is from this vantage that pharmacophenomenology dares to ask:
Is there something the components of neurotransmission feel like?
For example, what commonalities are felt
under the influence of serotonergic drugs?

What sensate invariants are to be found
in the actions of other neurotransmitters, endorphins and hormones?
Can we identify these felt sensation with those naturalistic concepts?
Could we map the structures and limits of experience from the inside out,
Using neuropsychopharmacology as a cartogram
and the phenomenological tradition as a pathfinder.
Would that be so noumenautic?

Strange that I missed those gray skies
and places I've hated in shallow moments
and glacial moods. I suffered such confusion.
My shadow told me: I wouldn't know what to do
with someone. I realize I am splitting, these runaway
valuations have me reckless and lost, out on the borders
my lines are crossed.

"When I was younger I could not concentrate", she said.
That really stuck with me, because I'd been there
and found it happening to me once again.

My consciousness locks up, its parts bristle in anarchic chaos,
Incoherent, indominant. I am bedridden into the afternoon,
Indecisive, fetal. I muse on possible chemical motivation:

The unsubtle euphoria of dexamphetamine,
The warm excitement of a phenidate,
The cold focus of an adrafinal,
The brutish pyrovalerone,
And my prescription
NDRI cathinone.

I get up, disconcerted, apathetic, yet I write this
just to prove that darkness can be a source of strength
when more wholesome platitudes fail.
I know those feelings of power are founded on something
unstable, unsustainable, cruel; yet here I am, in this moment with you.

I find myself strongly desiring intimacy
yet fear its consequences. Sometimes I feel
emptiness after connecting with others.

The group are among a few of the only humans
I've ever felt to have known authentically.
A sense of belonging, fleeting, sempiternal.

A little ****** up, a lotta genuine.
I'd've been lost without 'em.

G-town hasn't changed.
Same city, different crowd.
Year-in, year-out.

All the same "His Praise Remains
unto Ages of Ages"
across this weathered domain.

Old highs, new lows. Homesick for infinity
and lost in the throes.

Another pub, club, afters, rave. I forget sometimes
the world is not such a malevolent place.

Same conversation, different heads.
Once I felt more connected, now I am far away.
Been meaning to take an empatheogen with someone

to remind me
the world is not such a malevolent place.

The pines' silhouette a dusk sky.
Suburban streetlight glows in silence.

I cycle 15km to a rave in a quarry, take MXPr
and dance for several hours before cycling home.
I like dissos but they make me feel afar from people.

I want to be close with them, but a poison wellspring can
no thirst quench. At 28 I question if I'm borderline,
And some of it makes sense. I take my eyes
off the ground, and see clouds;

Sometimes I feel I've abandoned much of myself,
I get a longing for self-expression; I just don't know
who I am, who I should be.

Among them I'm honored,
I feel we are unique and genuine.
It's long written, a kinship that bonds the group.
We passed thru the millennium together.