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Dec 2022 · 48
Gave in to the itch, looking
for that real betterness.

I'm spinning, loud clothes, quiet figure.
Burnished copper wrung 'round my neck

reminds me how I came up, living
for the tunes we were breathing.

The wry smile
of a free animal
who knows it's time.

I mix some skiddy-up juice:
Smirnoff *****, Berliner Luft, peppermint tea;
Stroh '40' Austrian ***, apple & ginger;
Sea Dog Jamaican ***, neat;
Eventually the buzz fades

and I feel those tendrils
trying to drag me back
into the sways, the throes.
The only thing that could ever outrun them

is music. It is so good to travel,
To get away, to come alive.

Being home, perspective etches
a contrast between lives,

And I feel what destroys me,
My past chaste me,

But I always had an escape plan.
Shall I reinvent myself again?
Dec 2022 · 85
Touch Sequence
The whiff of peat briquettes
and the glow of sodium-vapor
carry echoes of this evening's Angelus,
Which peal across satellite estates.

December's early darkness
dispelled by old streetlamps,
And the draught of winter yet to solstice
held back by dreams of escape.

We swept through an altered town,
Familiar faces, I met someone I knew
but cannot remember; what would it mean
to experience a moment without prior?
Nov 2022 · 79
Recently I was misidentified as a psychonaut
so allow me to clarify,
I am not.

I am no longer
part of that cabal,
I am no more a psychonaut than I am a catholic;

But, as a philosopher, I will write of it.

Psychonautics is an act of configuration.
It refers to a methodology
for describing and explaining
configurations of consciousness,
And a research cabal
in which adherents explore
and harness those configurations.

The power of psychonautics
is that configurations of consciousness
have resonant effects on meaning and belief.
The psychonautic cabal emerges from a recognition of this.

Psychonautic exploration is not without risk
to the physical and psychological well-being
of the researcher, to their essence and beliefs.

An experienced and trustworthy practitioner
can provide a tether to your shared reality,
Advanced practices require caution and patience
to navigate safely; "[t]here is no casual experiment".

In the Western paradigm, classical psychonautics
was defined by contemplative and ritual techniques,
The religious or spiritual practices of a tribe or society.

Modern psychonautics has been increasingly defined by
the use of psychoactive substances, which is likely the result
of secularization, advances in pharmacy, and the war on drugs.

In contemporary society psychoactives are a valuable commodity
that many people use (or misuse) for a variety of reasons.

Some will seek out drugs they have not tried before,
Few shall devote themselves entirely, investing
their time and resources in learning about,
acquiring and assessing psychoactives.

This latter cohort aligns with the methodology
of psychonautics, they commit to understanding
through practice. Many become well-versed
in Novel Psychoactive Substances (NPS),
Some academics assume this is the mark of the modern psychonaut
but it is mere specialization  rather than characteristic thereof.

As more initiates into psychonautics emerge from drug experiences
so does the cabal become more chemical. Nevertheless
it draws its adherents from a diversity of practices.

Psychonautic practices entail ontological risks,
The ranks of the cabal are full
of disordered, misguided, or warped adherents
whose heedless practice undermines
the meaningfulness of consensual reality.
A lack of formal training and mental health
likely contribute to this, although no equation
can encapsulate the qualitative experience which
compromises ontological security.

The cabal is decentralized, without singularly defined leadership
or ideals, and it operates through intrigue. Its adherents
may dispute the ethos or validity of some practices
and their corresponding configurations, and so
within the cabal there is an internal politics:

Cognitive liberals
believe anyone using responsibly
should be allowed their methodology and be able to practice.

Universalists or absolutists
believe everyone should be initiated, if not adherent.

Elitists and psychocrats
hold that only their method and practice is valid.

Cognitive dissidents
believe the methodology and its praxis must not be vested
in nation-states, corporations, or religions
if it is/they are to retain its power.

The cabal's politics of intrigue
represent an unspoken power struggle
where the stakes are unclear, if even communicable.

If the war on drugs comes to an end, psychonautics
will be redefined by its next wave of initiates,
May they be wise and kind.

I have written enough,
That part of my life is well and truly over.
My purpose here is to explore ideas, to experiment with poetry.
The place I allocate psychoactives
has always been secondary to that;

Rarely do I deign to sail the soul now
but when I do, know I am a philosopher

and do so as an inquiry into mind
rather than in service of alteration.
Line Twenty-Two from PiHKAL by Alexander & Ann Shulgin.

"When you see a headline extolling the virtues of “resetting your brain,”
What’s missing is the “visceral, sometimes hellish experience”"
-Rosalind Watts
Nov 2022 · 162
Helle Technokratie
Speak the phrase "Civis Europaeus sum"
and safety is guaranteed to one's data
when traveling through the internet.
All roads lead to FVEY.
Relativism does not usually trouble me,
That our knowledge is perspectival
and our morality, cultural;

I do not think this precludes communication,
We can still share in cause and meaning.

Physics and metaphysics can prove
the unity and continua
of matter and energy,
Of mind and body,
Of one and many,
And of opposite
properties, even being
and becoming, essence
and existence.

A relativism of the self
is something entirely else
which I find quite troubling;

Should one's experience change
uncontrollably, and of course
it will. That drastic instance

it diminishes one's choice.
That afternoon I took MPT,
An obscure base tryptamine.

Psychedelic compounds do not reveal truths and such,
They reconfigure mind to make associations potent.
I am concerned the intimate sense qualities of
this mental life are precarious, beckoned
by contextual substrate, they submit
to the sways and throes we feel
as the slings and arrows
find their mark.
Oct 2022 · 93
Politique Obscure
Modern pop-politics is rife
with conflicts over freedom of speech,
The use of language, and phrasing
which might shape the narrative.
Consider identity politics
and efforts to control
the language of drug use:
'Addiction', 'dependence',
'Substance use disorder'.
Relabeling may not be enough
to end stigma, and knowledge
is always political. Nevertheless
a compassionate idealism strives
to contrast the weighty realism of suffering.

Alas, who can say whether drug use
is a set of choices, or the pattern of habits?
Vying between these drives, I try a few milligrams
of methoxyeticyclidine. This mortal coil, it harkens Absurdia.
The next morning I wandered town, wondering what dignity was.
Thus I found myself sitting across from the theatre, on the steps
of the courthouse as noon struck. Some solicitors emerged
and I was tempted to engage them in scholarly debate
but they would not even look my way
due to my scangerly attire
and a ropey vibe,

Spurned by 3-MeO-PCE, what shame,
Oct 2022 · 63
Intelligence, Willpower
The clever craft emerges from
intelligence, willpower. It allows
for healing, or human enhancement,
Provides a means to catalyze inspiration,
Or indeed proffers mere modes of recreation,
And of course a dark side which is unwholesome.

All the same I turn to those fabled schools of Alteration,
Of Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion,
Of Mysticism, and Restoration;
Its immanent applications

and its transcendent source:
Metaphysics. Knowledge, experience.
It is worth acknowledging recreation, playfulness.
I trial under 50mg of 3-MEC, fairly weak,
Temptation to re-dose but I refrain. For me
October's a great time to get ****** up, but
these days it would take true friends
to go there and come back again.
Sep 2022 · 116
Filterdrive, Incandesciens
The pace of life quickens, recognition
dawns in the dark corners of my mind,
To come alive, it's been so long, too long
to feel some; embrace these sways, to seek
eternity. Town
was such a remnant today. I could sense that
buzz hanging on the dusk: electric, ecstatic, but
I did not give chase.
Is it anhedonia when one's pleasures become mere
intellectual pursuits: my love of pharmacy, of music?

That recognition flickers
like a candle in the dark,
It was lit for you.
Aug 2022 · 221
Weekdays Fade
Chatting with Friday in The Blue Note,
She mentioned leaving for Scotland.
A friend commented on your body
language, and I could not shake that.

Thought I saw Monday walking The Promenade,
I turned my head only to see you also looking
back. We waved, and it struck me

how we were kids once
and how much time has passed.
Passin’ Me By,
The Pharcyde (1993)
Jul 2022 · 99
Not for lack of knowledge, I languish.
Not for lack of wisdom, I'd indulge.
Would lusting after apotheogens
make it any less anything? I can

administer those transhuman
Cybran stimulants, posthuman
Aeon dissociatives, and atavistic
psychedelic trips, but my longing
for harmony and synchrony might
bid alchemy and witchcraft farewell.
Ambivalence, comfort, a perfect static
in which the Anemoi are bottled, swirling.

This auld warlock does continue to ponder
the mysteries of quantum metaphysics:
The study of the smallest constituents
identifiable in an act of cognition,
An effort to identify the process
of quality and likeness.
Nuerotransmission may be the engine
of consciousness, but reality is the fuel.
Jul 2022 · 88
Oh, to be Anonymous
in that sweet darkness.

Ah, to be Philalethes
in the pursuit of truth.

Joy, to be with Pasithea
enveloped by relaxation.

Sorrow, to be a **** Lord
that never to comes-down.
A research cabal emerges
from the chemicals.
Jul 2022 · 375
Track Record
At the end of Nimmo's Pier
on a mid-week evening in July,
I gaze across the bay
with the city to my back.

To my left a heron potters about
in orange lamplight, from my right
two lads' conversation drifts
across the harbor docks,

Behind me the city thrums
with its mid-summer's nightlife.
My over-stimulation from three days
of intense work fades, my solemn thoughts
make peace with the world
and I rest after my pursuits,
Wondering whether I am a
suitable partner
Jul 2022 · 97
On The Cusp
I am apprehensive about dating,
It's something I feel I should pursue
while I'm still young; part of me wishes
to come closer, yearning for someone other,
To stand outside oneself and be with another.

Another part of me takes comfort in solitude,
My old soul is content, the sun goes down.
There are times when I reject warmth
and feel the cold universe
run through me;

Eternity is always just a few moments away,
Seeking the edge of chaos, searching for someone
intelligent, decent.
Jul 2022 · 188
Id Est Somnia
Months ago I awoke
to an almighty hypnopompic brain-zap
provoked by dreams of lisdexamphetamine-laced cereal.
Forceful, shocking, agonizing; strange to have felt this
when I lack any acquaintance with Vyvanse, and
when I am clean of residuals. That a dream
should cause real pain, such reaction
in my being, I wonder how
my brain contoured
the experience.

Weeks ago I grappled
with a prolonged tension headache
so I administered paracetamol, ibuprofen/codeine,
And buprenorphine/naloxone. Those opioids
provoked strange daydreams, to countenance the many idioms
I've grokked over.

I used to think my superpower was depression,
I'd go around seeking pain
because nothing else would sooth me; and with each pang
I came a little closer, chasing it
like a true addict, savoring my damage,

Exalting in my lonely conscience.

When I awoke the opiates were leaving my body
so I lay in their dark waves of intemperate sensation
among what thoughts etch onto the inside of my skull
and found myself driving with a concussion
towards a home for misanthropes.
Jun 2022 · 93
A psychoactive substance that induces alterations in perception, mood, consciousness, cognition, or behavior for the purposes of subduing personal drives in a profane context.
The functional opposite of an entheogen.

From the root, apotheo- (apotheosis, to deify) and the suffix -gen (genesis, to come into being).

Apotheogenesis can be understood as
the act of concealing or obscuring the self
through the singular focus of one's will onto a pattern or substance,
Raising it to a god-like position within their ideology.
The individual is thus subsumed by it, distracting from
dissonant parts of the self which are incongruent
with the whole. Such parts become hidden
though their drives remain in conflict.
The itch to alter oneself, the drive to consume substance,
That existential pruritus which all drug users know.
I have been quiet these passing months,

Reflecting on my desires
amid this summer's solitude;
Their difference, and appearance,
These attitudes towards my future.
Odd to consider what changes in a year.

In May I moved back in with a few friends,
But after a month I move back out again.
As June comes to a close I find myself
at odds again, I assess 2C-T-21 but
it is unremarkable with effects
resembling a subdued 2C-E.
Given its toxic metabolites
I have no interest going
any further into it.
I guess they can't all be winners.

I attend the 2nd conference in
Philosophy and Psychedelics Studies
hosted by the University of Exeter. I applaud
the commitment and passion of this disparate group
of drug-addled academics, but still I am wary of our efforts.
It is a hard to study a thing
which alters the very faculties
of those who partake of it. As for
my own contribution, an old concept,
Jun 2022 · 89
Cognitive Dissent
Values are malleable things,
Shaped over the course of our lives,
Slowly changeable except during extremes
which necessitate a flip, provoked by revelation or dissonance.
I used to value a capacity to be non-judgemental, is that hubris?

To suffer through confusion, to take pleasure in mania,
To soar with impulsivity, to drown in melancholia.
To play with fire, to pray to madness, to savor
one's pain, to wish to forget all the hurt, and
when one finally does, to realize the loss
of one's soul.

So I spent years
coming down, I sank into mediocrity, troubled
by my prospects; disenfranchised, devalued.
I reneged upon knowledge and pleasure;
I reneged upon curiosity, compassion.
I might be between values, between
integrity and wisdom, these are
no mere platitudes, for I am
changeable, mutable, aflame.
May 2022 · 76
Lost In The Sauce
I wander through town by day,
Stopping at Sparch to chat.

I meander about town in the eve,
Chasing the hues of dusk.

I tear up in misplaced anxiety but,
Keeping my eyes on the sky

I am transfixed by what is above us,
Spacing out into that golden indigo fade

I know I am lost, yet I am with the horizon.
Lost in the sauce,

I dream of escape, albeit to an unknown destination.
Bathing in this, 1⁄f
to seek peace.
Apr 2022 · 98
Do nothing without intention,
Feel for the context.

Focus on others,
Be yourself.
You choose your friends
but not your family;

We can decide who we like
but never who we love.
Mar 2022 · 1.9k
By the Spanish Arch
a few kind crusty folks
talk in the March sunlight.

Soft incantations of sweet trad
spill from a concertina, tin whistle
and fiddle, sloshing out an ambiance.

An old fella' makes a poor man's black velvet,
The ladies drink Estrella Galicia and San Miguel.
Another lad jokes: my grief counselor died last week

but he was so **** good I didn't care.

A motley crew, good-natured and friendly,
Drawn to session like moths to a flame;
Always I wonder whether I belong.

"I think in his heart Frodo is still in love with the Shire:
The woods, the fields…little rivers. I'm old Gandalf.
I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it"
Lines Fourteen to Sixteen from The Lord of The Rings.
Mar 2022 · 115
Careful Now
I took some suboxone
and wandered down to Dead Man's Beach,
Drifting over the sands, blown out, floating away
in the Atlantic wind,

I forget what troubles me.
Typical opioid headspace, standard apotheogenic relief,
Nothing worth exploring, although I appreciate it.

Moving on...
Mar 2022 · 152
The plateaux and caverns which map
my cognitive landscape correspond
by virtue of something; something
determines the salience of beliefs
and their ability to traverse this
intractable surface.
Feb 2022 · 101
I'm sick of believing in things.
Lets break the dialectic
and go for a swim
To Hide To Seek

To bathe
in the Lethe.
Feb 2022 · 420
A Dose Of Corona
I take 25mg of DPH to sleep. No effect.
I am feverish, restless.

In the morning I test positive.
I experience symptoms between a cold and flu.
Fatigue, headache, congestion, dry chesty cough,
Changes in taste, constriction of pupils, nerve pain
in the roots of my teeth, and cognitive fog. After three days I mend.
After ten days my isolation ends.

That soporific dose of diphenhydramine went unnoticed, blotted out
by the onset of coronavirus.
Antihistamines are of scant interest to me anyway,
More interesting was effect of that orthornavirae
upon consciousness.

I am glad for the doses of Cominarty I received
5 months ago.
Jan 2022 · 246
May your word be supple with optimism
and may their cognitions follow suit.
I took a little 2C-D tonight
and prayed to move
Jan 2022 · 93
Priorities Fade
Old friends corrupted by the apotheon,
Old fiends so wretched.
New **** as if we're more wholesome,
New hope for a free agent.

The weekend comes and goes,
I should party more. At night I go driving
around G-town in my old Lexus.

How does a man on earth live,
Does he live like this?
Foo Fighters (1995)
Some bad habits
are etched into us.

I drank Havana Club
'tres años' to ring 20β2 in,

Surrounded by a few friends
(and honored to call them such),

I worry sometimes they're too good
for me. I am torn by my history, in 20ζ2

I am between selves.
I reach for you, because
I miss that rueful innocence
we had, when our only concern
was so venturous.
Dec 2021 · 107
DAybreak, nigHTfall
I experienced beyond my means
Seeing so much, hearing such things,
It tore into me, and I spun like a cyclone;
But beyond the eyewall of my soul all is still
as if nothing was there. I went willingly to alter my mind
and so dissolved for a time. I lay at the altar of consciousness,
I found nothing
and rejoiced.
Dec 2021 · 313
My head's spinning
with the flaws of the earth.

Commit to the tailspin
and let the truth wash over us.

What I want is a mystery
yet I ruminate over our prospects.

I'm so afraid I won't ever be strong enough
to be in a relationship.
Up until recently
I craved solitude.

As part of a longstanding personal tradition
I do drugs alone on my birthday.
This year I do flualprazolam and 2C-C.

I turn 27, and it occurs to me
I don't want to spend another birthday
doing drugs on my own.

A switch flipped,
I sought company.

So I found my people, drank two bottles of ***
and did a few bumps of 4Fucking-MilesPerHour
before eventually walking home at 7am on Sunday.
Nov 2021 · 107
New Scum
I find myself dreaming of strange tides
and awesome shores. I mix some ***
and ginger, in my headphones I hear
a storm. Now everything goes dim

and I feel it. Drink is a writer's drug,
It allows one to lose their poise and swim.
Remember when we cared less and felt more.
I lost this when I yearned for a normal life, but

it is in my nature to seek this thing.
It is within me, it will rise again.
I tried to forget about a world
but the world remembered

and said:
We are lost,
We are lonely,
We are forgotten,

We are ephemeral,
We are the next gen,
We are the algorithm,
We are the new ****.
Oct 2021 · 131
Embodiment says more about consciousness
than symbolism or analysis;
"Your emotions become your reality".

What anticharms and antistrange ways lie beyond us?

Our eyes take care in their saccades,
We skim the surface, brushing over one's skin
as if to remark that I am here, searching for something.

Being and dissociation.
Line Three by Iroh from Avatar: The Legend of Korra, S3E2
Enough with these low doses, I feel like some real therapy.

A strong dose of some rather rare material, a designer dissociative
once highly popular, now virtually extinct: methoxetamine.

I disperse 47 milligrams into water and sup it, tentatively.

I feel the usual fear as a foreign chemical enters my brain en masse
and begins to alter the fabric of my mind.
It has a relatively long come-up, 45-90 mins.

In due time the chaos begins, I drift off into that aeon M-verse.
Eventually I get comfortable and listen to Skyrim atmospheres.

I have an epistmic vision, a vision of human knowledge as
increasingly ubiquitous, in line with the proliferation of modern ICT.
The use of tools, of signs and language is a gift unlike any other.
That we might imagine the past or a future. We are most fortunate
to have these stories, concepts and imaginings,
Things that allow us to venture beyond our home;
Things to remind us there's something to come back to.
They ask us what we want
and we answer: to share in this.
It asks me what I want and I answer:
To contribute, to feel this wash me away

such that I am no longer marooned.
Methoxetamine, or MXE, first appeared in 2010.
It became highly popular as a legal alternative to ketamine.
It is more potent, has a longer duration, and possesses serotonergic affinity which makes for a subjectively warmer experience.
It was quickly banned but continued to circulate for a few years.
Only a few compounds manage this transition from grey to black market (e.g. mephedrone).

In 2015 a precursor ban halted the global supply of MXE.
It vanished from online sources and is now presumed extinct.
An overcast autumn sky settled in
and fall let loose. Uncertain, lose it.

Use it.
I had strange dreams of you last night
actually. It's been some time

since I dreamed about anyone
realmente. Bring out all the carotenoids and anthocyanins,

Bring down the foliage; America is an empire in decline.
X is the new Y.
These waning years I find solace in an old joke:
Consciousness is only a problem
if you think about it.
Oct 2021 · 529
Western Solitaire
Came home from Berlin

Came home from NYC
chasing the apotheon.

Back in Galway
I dissolve ♄ere

♐︎his instance; of
being otherwise
within and beyond
one's place in the universe.

Some quiet time
soothes the soul, though
too much pains the psyché.
October looms.
Autumn is here,
I feel an eagerness

to leave and change color.
Cycling these medieval streets,
The scent of **** and rain-clouds

float through the town, NewDad plays
in my headphones. Think I'll skip winter
this year, travel to the southern hemisphere.
I got a tattoo of home to bring with me.
Sep 2021 · 63
I sat in The Square, surrounded
by throngs of skaters, sesh-heads
and other humans out on the town
for Skate Culture night.
It may be
the last dry day of Autumn
in G-town.

You chat with familiar characters
or familiarize yourself, you hear them
trying to sort, mulling over their situation,
Lamenting their day-jobs while trying to avoid
the reek of mass public intoxication. Every weekend
thousands of pandemic drinkers congregated here
and summer's not quite over

so long as it's dry outside.
I watch people skate, I wonder
what's this feeling mean?
This brief, fleeting recognition
as I scan the crowds, pick out faces
from the inhabitants of
my home city.

It is not sonder,
They are not random passersby,
Their lives' complexities are known to me
having grown up around them. To know a town,
To be able to look around on a night out
and recognize so many faces;
Some insatiable nostalgia

even though I am at home
surrounded by the tribes
I know so well.

Strange tales from G-twn,
And it gets weirder...
Sep 2021 · 421
When I was small
I'd sometimes hear
a roaring in my mind, ex nihilo.
In time it became less terrifying
and more distant.
Summer's end,
September appears.
The passage of time is

unbelievable. I'll leave my home-town
and travel far away. I wonder what it is
I'm running from. The inheritance

of madness. I went out last night
and got off with someone.
What am I afraid of?
When will I fade?
Aug 2021 · 82
False Dawn
I still yearn
for those seeping rays
of zodiacal light

that creep into the horizon
as the long sesh comes to an end.
5-MAPB reminds me

of where it all began: youthful escapism.
A conviction that we were part of something,
Our transcendension rituals.

Do I still believe? I am so tempted
by flualprazolam, that it could lift me
away from anxiety, to feel the back-scatter

of thoughts adrift
in blissful weightlessness; but
it is only an apotheogen, whereas I long
for the Empatheon, because
dawn differs with
Aug 2021 · 55
Escape Route
Went to bed feeling down.
Had a dream
they scanned my brain, doc says
I'm depressed.

I ask,
"Is it that obvious?"
Woke up blue, wondering
when I'll be able to feel love again.

For weeks I've been stuck in this mood,
Wandering with aimless hope
for an uncertain future, longing
to escape the country, listening to

some indie reverbstorm tunes, dreaming
strange nostalgia in my alienated hometown.
I Don't Recognize You
Aug 2021 · 188
My head's ringing, that serotonin itch.
Everyone's doing things; all I wanted
was to be forgotten, some dreams do
come true. Now I stare up at the sky,
Face-up in the middle of my street,
Searching for the counterglow that's missing.
Aug 2021 · 127
Eticyclidone Around
Such inarticulations of thought
as I meander, sometimes
lonely, longing for
company yet

content in emotion.
For when I quiet myself
I hear the world's rhythms
and their harmony;

I see dim summer's twilight
through heavy-quilted rain-clouds.
It is something to cycle through

after dusk, a time like no other,
About the town
ever-dear to me
Here I am, getting all O-PCEmotional
after a mere 7.5mg of that compound;
It is decent enough, a pleasant surprise.
Aug 2021 · 125
Contrasting TBZDeceptivity
Took half a milligram of bromazolam
after a long week, thoroughly enjoyed
the anxiolysis. Fifteen hours later
I can still feel its metabolites
at work, yet that feeling
when the world became a friendlier place
is unyielding.
I wonder how long I have before the rebound hits.

Odd to crave the lightness of something so apotheogenic,
Knowing full well
it's darkness.
The sedation lingered into the next day.
For those few moments
I felt the remnants of an old buzz in the air
which I would chase
if I didn't
Aug 2021 · 64
There are many practical ways of disrupting the body
to produce interesting cognitive and phenomenological effects.

There should also be ways of consolidating and expanding upon
****** processes which extend to our cognitive system
to produce unparalleled psychoactive effects.
What method of cataloguing such effects will be adequate?
It took many years to track down the compound
but I finally acquired it in the spring of '21.

It caused increases in timbral perception and aural acuity.
I could hear marching drums coming from the city center,
From across the lough I could pick out their faint rhythms.

At times things sound as if they've been shifted a 5th down
or have reverberant/echoic tails on them.

My housemate found it hard to understand me
when I neglected to pronounce my consonants
because I was not paying attention to the higher frequencies.
Despite this the cognitive effects are gentle
and unobtrusive (which is relieving
as tryptamines can produce confusion,
in concert with their enhancement and suppression cycles).

Music is listenable at this dose, and sense of rhythm intact;
Would that be the case at higher doses?

During the offset my ears felt warm,
Waves of spontaneous physical sensation washed over them.
This tingling feeling reoccurred a couple times
over the next day, albeit faintly.

Interesting that there would be an aural psychedelic.
Intriguing that other base tryptamines should be inclined
towards other sensory modalities.

DiPT for sound, MET for vision, MiPT for touch;
What sense DMT, DET, and DPT affect is unclear.
As is, the known psychedelics have a broad range
of effects. The particular specializations of the xxTs
are most curious.
Ingested 30mg of diisopropyltryptamine on 30/07/2021 at 21:37.
Excellent experience, necessitates further inquiry; high priority.

According to other reports DiPT breaks our musical scales
in a rather odd way. What might this say about the relationship between
music and mind, and can psychedelic geometry can tell us anything about
the topology of mind? I wonder would it be possible
to replicate DiPT's aural effect using audio software.
The rather sparse literature speculates that
"[t]he subjective decrease in frequency of sounds is a fixed value
which leads to... jarring distortion of harmonic intervals"
(Shulgin, Alexander T. in "DiPT: The Distortion of Music" 27).
This should be possible to model into an audio processing FX unit.

Not "everybody needs a 303" but
every audio engineer should consider taking DiPT.
At the heart of any analytic or scientific endeavor is logic,
Simple components used to build more complex propositions
which picture a way the world could be.

Any logical statement can be true or false
depending on its validity
and correspondence with the world.

The issue of correspondence, of soundness, will always foreground any application of logic to the world.

Logic can sate that analytic desire for objectivity or universality but this comes at the cost of certainty.

There is a limit to the amount of simultaneous precision one can impose upon the world.

Regardless of whether it is in the spatial, temporal, or cognitive domain, the nature of focus is exclusionary.
One cannot know with exactitude, both position and momentum, time and frequency, being and becoming, and so on.

Our ability to use logic is critical to us, it is a defining human characteristic and indeed is that thing which enables us to be critical.

The application of logic, representation and an ability to turn in unto itself (i.e. to verify its internal coherency) is its power.
Logic is always applied for purposes.

At the heart of poetry is the act of poiesis, the process of creation which reconciles mind and world.

We may say this of any artistic or aesthetic process (and indeed, art will abuse logic or go against reason for the sake of expression).

Such a process indubitably corresponds to the world in the instances of its creation, and there is certainty as to its correspondence.

What’s more, an aesthetic may be felt by others.
The logical contents of a poetic sentence may be invalid
but can still be meaningful (for otherwise it would not be poetic).

Poetry and lyric are inextricably bound up in language.
They closely track the threshold of reason and logic, but toe the line.

The possibility for meaningful communication arises independent from the probability of logical communication.
Meaning need not correspond to logic.
However, aisthesis is in the eye of the beholder,
and in this way art has is own issue of correspondence which is between others; thus it is an issue of interpretation.

Where logic strives for objectivity and is left with uncertain truths,
Poetry strives for inter-subjectivity but does not know it’s reach.

So things can be connected by meaning and felt as well as by cause and reasoned, but the relationship between meaning and causality then
is not a logically necessity
so much as meaningful necessity.

To establish a firmer contact between the two domains, we must constrain them through a practical bridge. There are many such crossings, but the stability of this bridge is most apparent in poetry.

Looking closely we see a relationship between phenomenal signs
and we fill in the empty spaces with proposed causes
such that it fulfills both meaning and logic.
The downfall of analytic philosophy
is its disdain for poetry.
Enough of this dark ****.
Asking me "bro, do you even know
how hard it is to **** yourself"
after taking potentially fatal doses
of various CNS depressants. I know

better than most. I cannot watch this.
Our lifelines are fragile things
and I shouldn't have to stare down Atropos
for anyone other than myself.
I wanna live.

"I want to hold on to the innocence I got".
We make our own fate, weaving stories
to tell ourselves, measuring the world
with them, and wearing our destinies out.
Another of our friends' died.

Line Fourteen from It's Just A Lot by K.Flay
Jul 2021 · 78
Garden Variety Anxiety
Last night the claw in my head ensnared me again,
This morning I listen to myself and try to forget.
Give me some early Caribou, Booka Shade,
Chemical Brothers, anything to help me
forget. Anything to make me feel;
Any anything‽ True neutral,
Like it's any better
than you:
My history, stories
about the town. My psychology,
Mental isn't it, we only know what's behavioral.
Things otherwise meaningless
crop up in memory.
What's trauma?
People so colorful.
Why is my heart grey,
Why does my head fade,
Why would someone chose
to seek comfort?
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