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5d · 119
My heart is elsewhere, imprescient
as this moment slips by;
I no longer feel the thing.
I hear lonely memories of a new past.
Infinity, Crystalised;
I cannot say why you reached to me
in this ancient future.
My head is worn with anachronism
but I sleep to empty it
and search my dreams
for that profound sense of wonder
at our simple universe.
Jul 3 · 28
Once again, consider taking leave of the earth
although you've no intention of going anywhere,
Not a notion aside from wishful hopes, aspirations
for a life where I can consume drugs, date whomever
I want without worrying about my standing, I'm dealing
with generational issues, perhaps
somewhat poorly.
Jul 1 · 18
Late Is The Hour
Almost tread on a balled up erinaceus europaeus
as I arrived home. I left a saucer of milk out for it
by way of an apology. The aladdin kept me awake
a few more hours; I would have liked a higher dose.

There's something oddly endearing about erinaceus,
The common hedgehog. My sample of AL-LAD was old
but it seems a fine material, friendlier than traditional acid

albeit less insightful; a question as to the conditions required
in which this conjurer chooses to appear!

REBUS and the Anarchic Brain.
II. F. Psychedelics and Insight.
Jun 23 · 167
The rain is so frail, beatific
moment, dim precipitate on my bare arms
and wondrous half-light washing across the city sky.

Do I trust myself with CNS depressants, or am I just deterred
by the thought of those more eclectic GABAergic aftereffects.
I'll dabble with the answer, they'd proclaim a world anxiolytic.
What does it mean to wander one's city,
Following paths that appears rewarding?
Where appearance is the very fabric
of our own reward pathways,
With no destiny
what determines aimless wandering?
What does my inclination collapse into the world,
What is it that our will envelopes? Our many drives are bundled
into what appears as an inclined self, and we are carried
along a path, arbitrar(il)y or otherwise,
Only for one drive's will to be usurped
by the sweet vista, or strange nostalgia
which spoke to the whims of another.
Is there a collective unconscious, are there connections
which whisper unto our subordinates?
Something as simple as intuition or god;
Gut feeling, divine touch. Either being immanent enough
to qualify one's environment by.
The way I live, to be forgotten, but I'm still here
living all my low effort heroes.

Sometimes I get low but it's alright,
I have my heroes.

It's OK to let go. Release,

Replant your soul;
Live on
Jun 11 · 42
Dusk Keyframes
Another summer, lone wanderer
soaring through empty streets;
High on the city's quietness,
I chase the sky's hue: an indigo fade
calls to memory, asks of it to another place.
Cradled by the vibrant melodies
of my Lunatic Harness, I hurtle into the nightscape
and believe no trace.
Jun 1 · 41
Mischievous Pathways
A month ago it was fall,
Now it's summer. I recall sensation,
A breeze ambles through conifers, an evergreen
shivers as if in frisson, it sways against our dark indigo sky.

Social company was wonderful this weekend,
I am not hungover this June bank holiday,
But bad luck did befall a friend's ankle.
Last night I drank northern Buckfast
and smoked West Coast Therapy.

I have this sense, what connects us,
I thought it mere memory, what is
beyond that; why should we reach
out to it, or it to us? How is meaning
given synchronicity, two things berift time,

Those dopamine Roses (Imanbek remix) have me
craving mischief, they know the way;
I know of no other
save this, meaningfulness.
May 12 · 46
ASMR For Replicants
The past on repeat, calm me.
Either "my head is a jungle" or my life's a maze.

Told myself I should get to America by 27.
I hear some euphoric vocal.

Earlier I took naproxen, esomeprazole, paracetamol
to alleviate the strain caused by excessive screen-time.
I'm such an addict. Was it a lie, that I managed to forget?
Me, a dopamine ******.
Autonomous sensory meridian response.
May 9 · 46
Dreams' Escalean
I hear the echoes of a lone house party
spill its tunes upon this cool summer night's aer.

I listen to the soft breeze carry sweet music
drifting across our kenopsic city.

Lounging from my bedroom windowsill,
I imagine what potential
our lives have

and wish for strength to make it real.
Apr 29 · 56
Longing For Alaska
Soft earth between my fingers

breathe sempiternal
to shirk the sun.

I'm leaving
"the days that must happen to you".

I'm gone.

"How will we ever get out
of this labyrinth of suffering? -AY
Straight & Fast."

I hear you
but you're gone.

Line Five seen at the smoking spot in Looking For Alaska (2019) S1E8; appears in Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman.
Possibly proposed as an answer to Alaska's question.
Lines Seven, Eight, and Nine from from Looking For Alaska by John Greene.
Apr 22 · 70
Fodder For Thought
The thought occurred to me again,
Whether we should praise forgetting.

Sometimes I think it would be a relief
to delete everything
so the time that's passed falls to our wayside.
I don't know why
I consider living this way. Is it wrong?

You read the straw that broke the thought I rode in on.
It was a blade of grass once.
Apr 20 · 60

The Æon Illuminate sought ॐgolessness
to escape the ∀xiom of suffering.

The Cybran §ymbionte became 0therwise
by chaining themselves to ∃xistence.

Neither afraid to burn through their essence
nor torch the old world.
Apr 20 · 69
Serrate Leaf
I've always marveled
at the aptness inherent
in the trivial meaning-making
which coined the term 'four-twenty'.
It speaks to the nature of the stuff.

Here's to 4:20, 4/20, 4.20,
We mark it a holiday In Praise of Idleness.

Who could have known the antics
of a handful of high schoolers
in San Rafael, California
should be the origin of this celebration
of cannabis culture.
Humble beginnings.
I became unsure as to the correlation of knowledge with meaning,
And happiness.

“There’s always a lighthouse.
There’s always a man.
There’s always a city.”
There’s always a question,
There’s ever a quest,
There may be an answer
but never an end.

Experience everything,
Be anything,
Forget nothing,
Become something;
This is existence.
There’s no turning back.
The unexamined life is not worth living,

But the over-examined life loses meaning.
All we can do is to grant each other equal significance
and thus strike a balance between being.

Lines Three, Four, and Five from Elizabeth in Bioshock: Infinite.
The book's spine had been surreptitiously eyeing him the past month,
Wedged between a vintage hi-fi tube amplifier and the wall of his closet.
Underwhelmed by the memory he had justified keeping for too long,
Upon spring cleaning he resolved to be rid of it. He grabbed his bike.
Hurtling down by the river, he uttered "...better things" and flaked it in
and briefly remembered
watching movies on videotape with her, holding each other
in the grainy glow of VHS.
Apr 10 · 54
I cannot fault your etiquette,
"Fate had you by the heel".
I state that Europe has committed to democracy;
Achilles might personify this at present
given the silence in Rome, Madrid, and Paris.
I hope our solidarity endures afterward, for
another great recession is coming, and thereafter
another counter-culture will rise from the discontent
and be fated to excess.
Palace of Nations
Apr 10 · 171
Unto the self.

Sometimes I fear my ventures are too vast in scope
but I cannot fault my curiosity or love of crafts.

It's all that there is, left here for us.
An infinity of eternal resolution.
It beckons, strange tidings
Apr 3 · 96
Hold Out
I contend there was a moment in history
when G-twn had the highest rate of MDMA use in the world,
And I was there at the heartbeat of it all.

At the start of this story
there was a great recession
and those pills were our savior.
They led us into the dark, wherein I found myself.

We went camping at an abandoned hotel and I took a half.
I was 17, and it was special. I don't regret it, but looking back
on the years that followed is difficult. It felt medieval. Youth
spent in search of a better life. All we had was faith, Session
be praised. All sorts of slang and substances
were slung around the town.

I finished school and didn't look back. My heart belonged to G-twn.
I was 18. I spent a summer as a runner and something of an addict.
Then I went to uni, and my closest G-twn friends were all there.
It was class. I smoked a lot of ****. At some point I did acid.
On New Years I went all in and burned myself out,
After this I cleaned up and actually studied for the rest of the year.

G-twn does strange things to one's memory, blends all your nights
into one. People always seemed to be around.
I was 19, still getting a feel for the scene.
I started going to raves. They were great
but one night I got some bad pills, I could have died.
Scared me wise for a lifetime. I had been so careless.
Thenceforth I began doing more thorough research.
I discovered the dark markets. Safety became my priority.
I realized how deeply I cared for my people, my city,
That my happiness is dependent on them, others.
This helped me forget my issues.
I was at ease in college, among my colleagues.
We treated campus like an extension of our living room.
I felt like I belonged. There were so many groups, so much time
spent among people as diverse. I trusted my friends, together
we became well-acquainted with psychedelics. We were
a cadre of psychonauts, and I was so proud.

We'd come so far from our audacious beginning,
Kids coming-of-age in The Great ReSession.
I was 20. I left to live abroad for a year
and when I came back G-twn was just as I'd left it,
But I was different.
Upon my return
the heartbeat was arrhythmic.
Here's to all those the lost memories.

In time MDMA's rampant popularity waned,
Abetted by garda crackdown. Now drug use is as dominated
by ***** ******* and sweet cannabis as it was dear ecstasy.
The wave's broken against the land.
There are still those who praise, the odd cabal of psychonauts
who get their dark research done,
A cadre dedicated to those arts.

I continue to taste new psychoactives when I've the time,
Sadly it's become something of a lone venture of late.
Nevertheless, I think exploration a good-in-itself.
Knowledge for knowledge's sake and all that.
I am 25 now. I wonder whose mind this is.
In 2017 Irish drug users had the highest "average number of days of ecstasy (MDMA) use... by country"
Apr 2 · 55
Hold Up
I've been running the shadows. Seattle. Berlin. Hong Kong.
I learned the hermetic arts, got chromed up, and lost my crew
after a corp caught our industrial espionage. The astral planes
are fraught with activity from a new plague. Best to hide out
in the matrix 'til things calm down. I'll write about past exploits
and can continue my ventures in psychonautics. Last night
I tasted a couple milligrams of alpha-Pyrrolidinohexiophenone
and stayed up until 5am watching Euphoria and writing.
α-PHP is remarkably potent
even at the threshold.
Shook Ones Pt. II.
Mar 18 · 203
Unto the universe.

When beliefs are all you have
they become of you.

All I have left
is time.
No longer than I
Mar 10 · 72
You must excuse the radio silence,
"Necessity has me by the foot".
I question whether America hasn't fallen into timarchy;
The Titanpointe facility might be enough to convince me
the world's a stranger place at present.
We desperately need a method of politics
that depends on articulation rather than representation,
Something to foster a more intelligent society. I fear
strange and merciless times are upon us
which necessitate emissions control.
Long Lines Building
Feb 17 · 202
I Could Feel Worse
Flaws don't absolve us of responsibility, yet they erode our agency
by compromising one's decision-making ability.
Sometimes I don't even know how I'm alive, but I promise I'll try
to do right by myself and live to my potential.
Nothing says Valentines Day
like another episode of Oz,
But despite my cynicism

these Fridays are so full of hope, positive excitement
overcomes my anxiety. I find myself yearning for more,
My passion for music comes as natural.

Listening to Lost You on the bus home,
Zeds Dead baby, and I've some thoughts
on The Careful Massacre of the Bourgeoisie.

Ate some 5-MeO-DALT last week and watched mid90s.
Its nostalgia got me, and that foxtrot was decent.
Seem worthy of further investigation, made arrangements
to legitimate the next experiment.
Feb 1 · 122
I felt loneliness, the likes of which
can only be known
as one contemplates their own body.
I recall where I was last week, a psi-trance gig.
I remember that evening's events:

There were many out, some
were from teenage years past.
We all ended up at squat party.
I felt belonging, but also brief sadness
as we raved in this abandonment:
Cold candlelight and phonescreens,
Cheap ***** and speed-amphetamine;
A portable speaker playing dark minimal.
Once upon a time, when we were true fiends,
I could hear it
calling to me.
Now I'm as lost, but no longer hear a calling.

When I got home my mind wandered until
it found the mirror, and I let quieted thought
wash through me, recalling, times, and friends.
How many acquaintances've been made in G-town,
Within these city boundaries? People have sessioned
here for so long. Let me be/gone, I gotta bounce, asap.
Felt quite low last weekend. Took 12.5mg of amitryptaline.
I'd been meaning to  assess its effect on sleep/dreaming
as part of a long-running personal experiment.
Experienced hypogogia as I drifted off that night
but the content of dreaming itself was unclear.
The sedate feeling lingered into the next day.

Forty-eight hours after initial administration
I noticed an offset/aftereffect. I dreamed that night
and remembered enough nonsense to be bored/perturbed.
I experienced a vivid hypnopompic state, whereby
parts of my dream clung to waking thought for long enough
to remember some narrative (some sort of teen-drama mash-up
but the lovable main characters were missing, and I was earnestly
trying to convince myself it [the dream?] was worth continuing.
A mild but noticeable aftereffect feeling persisted into the next day.
At 12.5mg its character is not so clear, no signs of anything interesting.
I found tianeptine more curious. Fruitless experiment, will not repeat.
I travel across my country and back
to better my knowledge on the physics
of sound, and thus-wise my power; it has
meaning, this effort.
I make my way back
to attend to
the nocturnal crowd of
my dear hometown, and
to reclaim my cravings. Aye,
I get the sense of some venture,
And want to push for experience;

I was to the philosophical question: our purpose?
The pursuit of excellence, yes, but what else?
Is there anything other?
The pursuit of Other, perhaps,
Or of Otherness.
What of mediocrity,
And of what we say merits?
Does intention have merit unto itself?
Is our pursuit of the good life so premised on
virtue, and the Other as premised on whatever's vice?
I am to the philosophical answer: being context.

I reclaim my cravings, and return
to attend to some wayward notions
in the darkness of my dear hometown.
Laudatio Ejus Manet In Secula Seculorum.
Who let the living out?
Memory is the aegis of the past.

Title taken from some graffiti in G-twn.
Jan 9 · 181
Chroma Key
What do you do when nothing excites you anymore,
How do you cope in the post-epicurean world?

Chroma key a green tee with the galaxies
you wish you could visit,

Message me
and I'll meet there you there.
Breathless (1960)
Jan 5 · 94
I remembered for a moment
how lonely I was
and felt my recondite mind soar.

I wondered whether I wasn't retired
but my passion remains, as does my ethic.
I am a novel psychoactive substance enthusiast
but more-so
a philosopher of mind,
And admittedly of humankind.
Some notes from my last birthday: after 2 days
at home
tripping solo
I could breathe better, feel the rain on my face
and emotion in my chest, but eventually
this sensitivity fades.
I think that 'afterglow' is an artifact of self-(re)integration
which often follows the use of ego-dissolving substances.
It remains a recondite phenomenon.
Jan 3 · 109
If Nobody's In
I get sentimental about my skin.

I figure my superpower is: depression.

I reckon the cult of productivity our religion.

I fall farther into complacence than I'm comfortable with.

I think compassion is acknowledging the shared human condition
of imperfection.
I wonder when no one is
Dec 2019 · 100
"Another year gone",
Another episode over,
Another moment draws to a close; for some weeks
I've been thinking of how to address this ending.

We live in the company of our own making,
And I've been in good company during
my tenure. I'm thankful for the time,
Effort, and technology allowing
my words to rest here
after traveling from G-town
through to Dublin and out of Ireland
to The Netherlands, and from there through
various nodes of The Onion Router, onto this website;
But I think the travels of a letter
and the transmission of language,
Through speech or paper,
no smaller a miracle. What utterance
indeed, what of semantics, but I digress;

This ending, the year so nearly over.
Over the holidays I said to my father:
Relief is the fulfillment of hope

How relieved I will be
when I hold these words
as a book
in hand.
Line One by Albus Dumbledore
Dec 2019 · 283
Acute anxiety, insomnia, hand tremors, and a pre-delirium state.
Feelings of excess glutamate
spurned by GABA dysregulation.
It was not 'the fear', there was no binge.
Rather it was brief, mild ethanol withdrawal
prompted by frequent consumption over the week.

Distinct feelings
of excitotoxicity.
Should abstain from GABAminiergics
for 1-2 weeks, will abstain from alcohol
for 1-2 months.
Dec 2019 · 93
Hardly A Day
I'm cold.

I thought I could relish the feeling
of this cold universe
as it flows through me, but
my pseudopsychosis struck out and,
Once again that ideation's strange tidings have turned
in on itself. A series
of involuntary shudders run
through me, blessing me
with the modern sacraments:
Depression, stress
and anxiety.
I'm ok;
Dec 2019 · 197
Republic Of Dread
Acceptable self-harm is drinking a pack of off-brand biscuits
through several cups of tea
every other evening.
Acceptable self-harm is binge-watching an entire season
of whatever's hooked it's tentacles into
the reward pathways of your brain
in one sitting.
Acceptable self-harm is buying into vicious ideology
because it makes you feel deep connection while
Unacceptable self-harm is when your wrists ache
for a sharp edge, or your brain itches
for a chemical foreign to it.
Dec 2019 · 113
Took 10mg of Cetirizine last night,
A second-generation antihistamine.
Onset was apparent, and a minimal drowsiness
was felt into the next day: so vague, and slightly unpleasant.

Possibly an enhanced aggressive feeling 24 hours later.
Perhaps the threshold of psychoactivity; but really
pointless, obviously nothing (without ailment to alleviate).
How odd is psychonautics.
Excuse me.
Nov 2019 · 152
25 years old, still nothing owed.
Could get out of bed, or just
do some more 4-**.

A day for the world.

Ate some moxy,
Can feel it.

nothing more
than to make music.
What am I?

Nov 2019 · 112
Focus on others.
This message I feel
is of such importance.
Spend less time worrying
about yourself.
I saw Kate Tempest perform and
saw another human being
with eyes as wide
and a mind

as darkly bright, soaking
in all the half-light, pondering
how human we all are, consumed
by the question and its many answers.
Her word was incandescent
with semantics that struck
the psyche like lightning.
Nov 2019 · 172
November Hesitant
A swan cruised down Lough Atalia
as midnight struck this brisk November.
And a second followed in its wake
as the city's sparse weeknight traffic sewed by,
Woven into the quiet breeze of a new Wednesday.

I listen to a few tunes in the background as I cycled
down The Line; pausing to take note
of this moment, I gazed upon G-twn.
Nov 2019 · 95
My ventures into substance, be they
pharmacological or pharmacopathic, have me;
And I, ever-curious as to their nature, sought counsel
in psychoactives as if they were an extension of myself, being.

Were they, those instances, representative of a coupling
that bears upon my cognitive system, or was I engaging
in pathetic fallacy on an altered scale.

What's that intuition
some of us have come across in our travels, that
each mode of hallucination
shines a new light on abiogenesis, and on the end
of life itself; allows us to sit with it

and ease into those concepts, where self
is among it's reflection, we muse on
being, content with the universe.
Nov 2019 · 170
Words In Passing
There's a moment in the adult
as it's grown, where the wonder
that was felt as a child
has been supplanted
by a routine knowledge of the world;
World as structure
rather than as process.
When curiosity is replaced

with expectations and patterns
for us to retrace
into the tender night.
"Literary or scientific, liberal or specialist,

All our education is predominantly verbal
and therefore fails to accomplish
what it is supposed to do.

Instead of transforming children
into fully developed adults,
It turns out students of the natural sciences
who are completely unaware of Nature as the primary fact of experience,
It inflicts upon the world  students of the humanities who know nothing of humanity,
Their own or anyone else's."
Lines Twelve to Twenty-Two from The Doors of Perception by Adolus Huxley.
Nov 2019 · 161
Into the City
As I left I felt a thing, sadness,
So apparent to me
as I ran to the bus.

Why had I departed their company
and the warmth
of our homestead in Oran?
I returned into G-town
to be alone
for the rest of the evening.

Perhaps I just wanted to be with
my substances. Perhaps there's a psychology
to treat with. Perhaps there's far less thought put into it.
Nov 2019 · 302
Temporary Pleasure
What a strange Halloween week,
I am underwhelmed, I did not
overindulge, despite the
list of things I ate:
MPA, hash oil, 2C-B,
4-**-MiPT, escitalopram.
My head is not sated, I can feel
a sensation of unanswered cravings;
But I restrain.

I dose low, barely exceeding
the threshold.

Starve your head.
Oct 2019 · 179
I query the belief
that I do not use drugs
for the traditional reasons.
This belief entails crafting a morality
and there is nothing as perilous; good, bad
and evil. I hold that psychoactive substances are
inanimate. I'm not sure I can distinguish my use from
another, but now I'll write otherwise.
I realized in the shower
my reason for continuing down
this path. Clearly no longer recreational,
Nor spiritual (even though its origins are there).
Neither therapeutic notions nor addictive patterns motivate
my wanderings anymore. No,
My interpretation seeks to push the limits
of what I feel as human.
I am willing to test the conditions
of our humanity.
I sought the threshold
at which we are animal, and
in this willingness to lose my mind
I'd found something
that I now juxtapose
with an understanding of Other.
Oct 2019 · 215
Bad anxiety
while socializing on Methiopropamine.
Too easily intimidated/can't talk.
I am confused. Consideration
given to resuming therapy.
Comments aside, MPA is uninteresting.
Trivial entactogen. I wonder what I've been doing
in stimulant territory this long. Return to psyches overdue
but must ease into it, mind is out of practice
and I don't want to incur further damages.
Oct 2019 · 67
How to reconcile
with the disparity

of realizing
entheos and apotheos
are two aspects of the one thing:

A metaphysique; this bridge
between logic and the world
has me
"I'm ok", in the lower case
conjures such an image
of intensely fragile
emotional states.
Oct 2019 · 179
Beyond A Moment
Sometimes I feel so stricken by choice,
Yet constrained by an apathy
I wasn't born with.

In the quiet I keep watch under all the stars.

As they cradled each other
Rue and Jules turned the world 'round their scars.
For a moment I remembered what it was
to feel blessed. The things I took for granted
haunt me a little. I saw myself, in bed, staring
into my laptop, so starved of human connection.

When I was young I wanted to be an actor
because during performance I could forget
myself, briefly play at somebody else,
Someone with confidence. Nowadays I feel
each grain
slip through the hourglass. Alas, my neurosis
has me Shook One: Pt. II
Oct 2019 · 294
Temporal Exhaustion
Frustrated at myself;

But feel I need say more
than that
about these serotonin fumes
I give off.

Ye Ye - Daphni,
Heard it before
hon'. Where's the sweetness at,
Where've you gone?
Oct 2019 · 209
Context and Continuity
There was a time without hesitation
when I spoke for youth.
I feel old often.

There was a philosophy
which allowed the possibility
for some meaning
or value in life.

Were it as certain as existentialism
about the value of one's own
constructed meaning,

Or as certain as nihilism
about the total inability to create meaning.

I would take comfort where I can, but there're times
when I reject warmth
and feel the cold universe run through me.
My frail body, were it bound up with anything other
than the psychological tension arising from
this long search, and our failure
to find anything that arises beyond the interactions of
our subject. How should we live?
How shall we be genuine among alien determinations
and all that otherness, enveloping us: our reflection.
The mirror does not usually spare a thought
to its constituent, referring not to glass nor opaqueness.
The mirror, object
constituted by subject
that there were. One drive,
Willing to subjugate the others,
And a thought to spare the subject
as it were. Melody might reconcile with
the absurd, out-of-tune as it is
and out-of-sorts as I were.
Oct 2019 · 132
As one ages it can become difficult to see
that beauty in the world, I try
to remember to look for it,
To enjoy simple aesthesis when possible.

Listening to Ocean Eyes
and I feel older inside.

Realized how alone I am, wondered
whether I haven't been clean for too long.
I keep forgetting
I don't have a substance use disorder, I keep forgetting
I'm not currently a drug user.
I gave up that life, and
can't remember why.

Take enough benzodiazepine and you can time travel,
But only forward;
Was never really too bothered with benzos, 'cause I just
wanna go back
and be accepted.
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