The Mushroom Diaries - Vol. 15-18

 There is a new rage these days in Mushroomland, it seems some enterprising band of wastoids have figured out a way to extract the psilocybin from the boomer and infuse it into chocolates. It really is a wonder of human ingenuity and these little chocolates come in swanky psychedelic packages, 3.5 grams each and in what looks like six pie slices with each slice containing .58 grams of psilo-goodness which makes it really quite easy to monitor the dose. Of course i could monitor the dose of the regular boomers if i had a slightly better scale but i don't and so i while i have a good idea i'm never exactly sure how much i've taken until it's too late... relatively speaking as i can honestly say i've never taken to many boomers at one time, if anything i undershoot but hey man it all works out in the end right? 

So while these chocolates are quite fun and cut down on the shit taste of the mushrooms a good deal i still seem to get a slight hint of the taste compounded with the fact the chocolate isn't exactly the most delicious in the world and tends to veer towards the dark chocolate side and i am most definitely a milk chocolate kind of guy. Fret not though as i can make exceptions especially when it involves my psychedelic wanderings that tend to take place in my one little room. And while i enjoy these chocolates and their ability to gage the dose one might call me a purist as i still love the the good old fashioned fungi. I take some sort of perverse pleasure in choking down my shrooms covered in peanut butter or ground up and swallowed down with water, the whole time stifling the sensation to gag or toss them all back up and into the toilet. The truth is though these little chocolates make it really easy to dose and hence my backlog of missives on my inner journeys... hell this week alone i ate them twice... Wednesday and Saturday... yes Major Tom i've really made the grade and i think my spaceship knows which way to go... i think...

These days my adventures have been a little different though somewhat the same. I realized i was in a strange pattern of tripping on the couch and watching/listening to the same music videos over and over so i made a decision to vary the routine. I still start off by watching and listening to the music by i've begun turning the telly off much earlier and going full dark room, maybe a little music on my phone at times but for the most part just the relative silence of the world, relative because is the world ever really silent? I call it organic noise. Doing this has led me to a number of revelations, epiphanies, old and forgotten memories, that come bubbling up from the mire of a place we know little about but exists somewhere between the inner workings of my grey matter and the universe at large... or to put it more bluntly, i have no fucking idea where it comes from but it is there and it is my existence or the remnants thereof. 

It really is amazing what happens in the darkness, when one shuts out all the external static of the telly, the internet, of the electronic bombardment that is constantly upon us, to disconnect and listen to nothing but the sound drifting in from outside, the inhale and exhale of my own lungs, to hear the faint rhythm of my heart, to hear the cats walk gently by, to listen to what amounts to a roar from the furnace followed by the quiet calm. It's fucking lovely. Sometimes i'll wander to the front door and gaze out at the stars, my hands against the coolness of the window, my feet gliding along the tiled floor. While there are many thoughts of the boyos and Pops that drift in and out there are also thoughts of the women i've known, the brilliant ones, the brief dalliances, some i haven't thought about in years but then there they are, smiling and drifting through a mental landscape, the places and times so vivid it's stunning and other times the images flicker like an old black and white television, there are times when there is a collective WOW! of the mind and what one recalls, the memories of what seem like past lives but are really the same one i've been living. 

And then there was one night. I didn't even actually notice at first but there were tears rolling down my face as i stared at the ceiling and mused on the mess of this domestic disaster. At one point had it not been somewhere after 2AM i contemplated walking up the steps and apologizing to the Breadwinner, for the sheer catastrophe of this so called union, for not having the guts or balls or strength to break it off before it got to the point where it involved other lives, lives of the two people i love most, to explain that i wasn't trying to be a cold and aloof prick but that it was more a defense mechanism, a way to cope with the shit show this relationship had turned into, basically to acknowledge my very large part in the way this had turned out. Some day the Wilderness Years will get into the early stages of the official portion of this union and the fact that instead of getting married we should have been splitting up. That is the cold hard truth which the facts will bare out. In the end my mind slowly walked off into somewhere else though the thoughts stuck with me. 

There was also many instances of the beautiful nothingness that i've come to relish on these little excursions, these moments when i drift in and out of consciousness, where i'm there and i'm not, where i feel/realize i'm just another wave of energy among all the waves of energy that are floating about the universe, where i've come to feel that this is what leaving the physical part feels like, this utterly gorgeous and beautiful wave that rises and falls and how there is really nothing more to do but enjoy it, to ride it and not worry about what comes next... because there is nothing to worry about... the plants and fungi of the world could save this human shit show if only the humans were smart enough to listen... but these days humanity is not one to listen, it likes to yell... at anything and everything but mostly to hear it's own voice...