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Sacrelicious Mar 2012
I had to write a process analysis paper for my adv. comp class Senior year.
My topic was an acid trip. Hope you enjoy.


Bored with the various street drugs that you take daily to achieve a mediocre high, you long for something new. You're striving to reach enlightenment, mental clarity, and an escape from your worldly woes. By chance or fate, you come across a man selling what he claims to be the best of all drugs: LSD, lysergic acid diethylamide-25, better known as acid. This appears to be the only way your mind and, in turn, your soul will experience the mysterious and desirable acid trip.
Upon impulse, you purchase the drug. This was saturated in a piece of newspaper. As you survey your ticket to mental bliss, you read the words on the small paper. The sentences of the article were cut to meet the spacial requirements of the acid. This made the paper difficult to read. Deep within the mess of incomplete thoughts and ideas, your eyes cross paths with the word peace. The simple but powerful word that was camouflaged in the unfinished article increased your desire to take the LSD. The "peace" was your chance to free your mind and consequently yourself.
Giving into impulse, you place the paper under your tongue. Like the words on the paper, the acid dissolves into your glands entering your body with aspirations of arriving upon your brain. Moments later, you feel nothing. You were expecting the drug to work immediately upon contact. This was far too big of an expectation. LSD like many other medications needs time before it comes to life. Disappointed, you retreat to your living room to watch a film on the television. As you sit in the dark, ruby red chair, your only thoughts are about acid.
An hour later you feel nauseous. Racing to the bathroom it starts to hit you. The porcelain toilet and clear water within is your muse. With each heave, you notice a minor change in your mind. When finished with vomiting, you realize your stomach is empty. You try to think of something to eat but your stomach has no desire to take anything.
The mirror catches your attention and there you stand staring at yourself. While gazing upon yourself, you notice your pupils have dilated. The large black circles that were once small now resemble the largest craters on the moon's surface. During this moment of time, your vision is misty. Every shape has a fog surrounding it.
When your hand reaches the forehead, the temperature of your skin burns it. As your hand rests there longer, your fingers are cooled by little drops of sweat that slowly flow down your forehead in an effort to cool your body. You conclude that the fever has created the sweat that is secreting from your body. The moisture from the evaporating liquid has created a misty air. This realization leads you to believe that the acid was beginning to take control.
An immense thirst has dried your throat and mouth. Like a desert they both need water. You have this newfound energy and possess the amount of adrenaline that can keep you up for days. You feel invulnerable and this is the healing hour for the body and soul. As the second hour of your experience comes to a close you have covered a lot of ground. You have gone from having control to no control. The acid has changed you. The man you were two hours ago was in a different dimension. In this dimension you are a new and different man.
The third hour has brought the acid to its maximum power. Your high is peaking. The visions you see and the sounds you hear paint beautiful hallucinations. They feel sensational and bring waves of shivers up and down your spine. The television screen looks like a portal to a new world, and the sounds it makes sound like greetings in a foreign language. Your eyes close and you open them immediately. Realizing this is not a dream, a state of confusion fogs your mind. Despite reality, every thought and action feels dreamlike.
Contemplating the situation, you ask yourself if this is normal. Cackling, you scream, “Normal does not exist. Normality is simply an impossible goal that has plagued society since the beginning of time." The once well known actions and thoughts that molded you were strange and unknown. This was the point of no return. You would never go back to the past. Normal process occurs no longer this far into an acid trip.
You feel groovy. Everything is fine. Your face is frozen in the shape of a smile. Nothing can take you down. The serotonin in your brain has been altered, making every moment feel good. Still staring at the screen, you see a tiny man waving at you. The physical greeting he gives you carries the sound of a hello. When he opens his mouth you see what he says. Each word is portrayed by a symbol in an unclear language. The symbols hypnotize you and give you comfort. The mind without acid would see nothing in the hypnotic symbols. But the symbols converse with you. Your sensations have now crossed over. Sights have turned to sounds, and sounds to sights.
Matter is glowing with a faint rainbow that lies on each objects surface. The fourth hour of your high is ending, the man in the television is becoming harder and harder to see. Like your high, the man is leaving. Over the next two hours, you slowly drift back to reality. The once sea bound boat is approaching land and, with each passing wave, you are coming closer to sobriety.
The loud song of the cuckoo clock has marked the sixth hour. LSD no longer controls you. You are a different man but in the same respect, the same. At your command you gave yourself to a higher power, one that intensified your emotions and took you back to man's primitive mind set. Drained from the crusade, you turn off the television to rest in the quiet. The sun is leaving with your energy. A cool breeze travels through the room which carries you to sleep.
Sacrelicious Mar 2012
if you we're really dead,
you would have seen the burning caterpillars,
become butterflies.
you're only living if you're seeing suffering.
death is merely a promise that everything works out in the end.

i was shooting for angels,
but i wound up hitting saints.
Sacrelicious Mar 2012
Trying to reason
with a closed mind.
Will only get you
written off to the
emptiness of a
lustful heart.
You're at the top of the ladder
but if you go,
you're just going to sink to
the bottom of a lost ocean.
Time doesn't exist,
I'll always be here
lingering on the border
of the past and present.
Up in the air,
I'm always dancing with the
clouds.



I am
infamy
at its finest.
Sacrelicious Mar 2012
Darling,

When I saw you with that cheap *****

I wanted to throw you out the door

No I couldn’t do that

I could never do that

With me it’s all or nothing

I’m taking all leaving you with nothing!

Standing behind you in the silence of the night,

I watch you cower in fright.

It’s not the size of my gun

That is making you run.

But your guilt for what you’ve done

And soon enough you will be carried on

A death without clothes

Shameless and lacking ***** hose

I will have you at your core

A selfish manipulative *****

Lacking a heart,

And lacking a soul.

I’m preparing the hole

That will be your home

You’ll be alone,

To rot until you’re nothing but bone.

And in vain

I will covet my pain

And spit on your grave

As I finish covering your earthen cave.
Sacrelicious Mar 2012
Baby,

When I saw you with that other man

Just like your chastity.

A piece of me died

How could you do this to me?

I loved you with all of my heart

And all my soul.

There is a price to pay

For what you have done.

Execution at the hands of a gun.

Standing before me

In your final moments

Of your deceitful life.

You now feel my pain

I’m trying to make you suffer

By prolonging your shot to the head.

I hope you think about every lie,

That escaped your snake like tongue.

I hope you think this

Before you are dead.

Maybe then you will see

Babe there is no fooling me.

You’re pleas of insanity

And your excessive apologies,

Can no longer affect me.

I’m smarter now than I was before

I did my research and concluded

That you are a *****.

When I grow sick of your cries,

A single tear will flow down my face.

With sweaty palms

And trembling hands,

I will take one final breathe

And turn the gun.

For without your love,

I wish for my life to be done.
Sacrelicious Mar 2012
May 16th: You learn by doing.

If I keep following by your example,
I'll be a ghost soon too.
I want to meet angels.
My memory claims to be subjective
But I'm calling its bluff.
My hand has cards in high places.
Hot boxing joints and chugging forties,
Trying to forget my questions,
Cause the answers were nothing but a let down.  
You're still up in the sky
but soon enough you'll come free falling
back to hell with a headache and a hang over.

May 17th:
I'm tripping *****
cause life is nothing but a good trip.
When you think,
think with your mind.
Your brain will always have two sides.
KEEP YOUR HEAD STRAIGHT.

May 18th:
I'm avoided like the plague
cause I spread like disease.

Sin is subjective, keep your opinions to yourself.
Sacrelicious Mar 2012
Well since you gave me the idea,
I'll just to my alley of worship
to sing hymns of ecstasy and ****,
to glorify the power of  my all mighty drug dealer,
with the rest of my burnt out, strung out congregation.
A few beers doesn't make you an alcoholic
it means you were thirsty.
Before you read the rlab report.
Do you mind if I make a drink?
I wasn't going to show,
but our blood has bound us to the familial microscope.
Blacking out the ******* with the facts that proove you wrong dancing on the tip of tougne.
Your wasting my time.
I'll be the gentleman and I'll hold the door open for you.
Now walk right out of my life.
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