Life is a series of acid hits…

It’s been a long time since I have done this- this sitting down to intentionally write out my thoughts. They are jumbled up there, in my head. Most of the time I feel like I am bouncing back forth between an alternative universe (like a dream world) and whatever 6.this “daily” living thing is that I am doing. This used to bother me in the past and cause a great deal of anxiety, but now, I’m just kind of like, “what the fuck…been here, done this. I’m over it.” The best way I can explain it is like going on hundreds of bad acid trips, finally you get to the place where you accept the outcome of your next trip. That doesn’t mean you don’t (dare I say it?) hope for a better and more enlightening trip, but you are finally able to accept it however it unravels itself. Good or bad. And no expectations. Supposedly, somebody once wrote down one of the many things Buddha said, “manifest desires freely by having no expectations” and then mic dropped.

I believe that one statement is full of enough fodder to last hours of analyzing and dissecting.

I want to be free of all my meds, but especially one in particular. What harm could it do? No need to answer that, I already know. But, I can’t stand feeling like I am this puppet that is controlled by pharmaceutical companies- and indeed a product of them. Imagine a small split in an existentialist crisis that’s been brewing for a lifetime, and then finally arriving at its iron clad gates 35 some years later. Realizing indeed where you are. Time to explore the questions you (I) have pondered for all that time. Stepping out into the brave, yet scared world stripped of all your armor baring all your battle wounds for any onlookers to see. I will indeed going down the roaring rapids of life without a lifejacket or any kind of raft. Give me what is coming my way, what it is I am supposed to inherent.

Lastly, truth is, I am tired. There are thoughts that sprout out like a kernel of popcorn in the microwave that has met its heat limit and suddenly transformed into something edible and not so annoyingly crunchy. Those thoughts are merely how easily I could put an end to it all. The calmness that accompanies these thoughts tend to be previews to what I have no doubt to be feasible scenarios. I am more confident in something I have not completed than I am about anything else. How do I transfer that confidence? My beloved medicine has kicked it. I’ve got to go. Go trip out…or I guess go live in some alternate universe..exploring the things I’ve seen time and time again.


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