i just had one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.

i was hanging with a friend, when a bunch of their flatmate's friends came in and started smoking chop. i took a hit and immediately sunk into my own body. i receded into an expansive, empty space. from this blackness, i could hear a conversation taking place between the flatmate's friends, over and over, each repeat a perfect automation of the prior -- the exact same words, intonations and pauses -- an endless cycle amongst human machines.

guattari talks of existential refrains: collective socio-cultural habits, that constitute one's subjectivity. trapped in the stultifying capitalist machine, one becomes a miniature automaton to the processes one enacts in daily existence. one's consciousness mirrors the rote, repetitive banality of capitalist existence. one becomes as mindless as the instruments one utilises and the commodities one produces and consumes.

here, in this endless loop, subjectivity reformed its own constitutive stasis. headless life grasped forgotten familiarity unto demented stability, the same boring story no one cared enough about to respond to, so it was repeated, over and over, to the same response. a dead, stupid machine speaking to other dead, stupid machines.

and from what i could pick up, these were bourgeoisie, property-owners and managers, cosmopolitan rulers of the world. these dumb ******* were the ones running the world into the ground.

i finally understood why my friend was so misanthropic and why she was leaving this hellhole. too ****** from the chop, all i could do was go out into the rain, clutch my friend's arm, and gape at the clouds. i've never been so terrified for a friend, and so utterly crushed at the state of the world.

worst of all, i'm not sure if any of this even happened. the chop may have sent me into a psychotic state. perhaps, i simply experienced a normal conversation, and all conversations are this horrifying. or perhaps, i did meet drugfucked bourgeois machines.

i don't know.