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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.
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.
Day Oct 2020
Bones built with empty tp rolls
Skin scratchy paper
Brain stitched with badly written poems
Veins flowing *****
Eyes rolled with strawberry swishers
Nose bleeding paint
Chest dried out in the sink
Feet laying down for the night
Thoughts stain the sheets
dexter Aug 2020
Slowly letting go
Daydreaming lovers and lies untold
Bold but homely
Bored and lonely
Cross-eyed and painless
Strung out and brainless

Uncomfortable oh comely
Emptiness, friendlessness
I still exist - I think.
I know this isn't all there is
*****, beautiful, broke, and free
Is the only state in which I find peace.

Dawn is breaking and so am I
Daylight bright in misty eyes
I woke alone, in my tent in a forest;
hugged and kissed the void good morning
I miss something I've never had and it's vicious in my mind.
eva-mae coffey Nov 2019
This week I have wandered.
alone, a lost ghost among my regular haunts.
from the coffee shop in the park to the icy edge of the ocean I strayed,
Then returned to the warm yellow windows of my family home.
My hair is a mess, hasn’t been washed and left in a low tuft, at the nape of my neck, twined together with a green satin ribbon.

This week I have wandered.
Alone, a lost ghost among my regular haunts,
from the kitchen I crawled back to the warmth of my solitary sanctuary.
And there I stayed, as normal, in my navy knee length sweatshirt and joggers.

And now, as I sit in my single bed, pale back against the radiator, the tears finally come.
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