“I can’t sugarcoat the [acid] for you, this is how I feel”


“I can’t sugarcoat the [acid] for you, this is how I feel”

Said they killed his only son because of insufficient funds
He was sobbin’, he was mobbin’, way belligerent and drunk
Talkin’ out his head, philosophin’ on what the Lord had done
He said: “K-Dot, can you pray for me?
It been a fucked up day for me
I know that you anointed, show me how to overcome.”
He was lookin’ for some closure
Hopin’ I could bring him closer
To the spiritual, my spirit do know better, but I told him
“I can’t sugarcoat the [acid] for you, this is how I feel:”

Kendrick Lemar – XXX (ft. U2) [The track before FEAR]

That Time I took 4 Acid Tabs….

The FEAR of the Unknown is one thing. But writting an articile section on the FEAR of the Unknown while overdosing on an unknown drug is another thing entirely.  I don’t condone drug use. I don’t drink alcohol anymore. I don’t even smoke weed anymore let alone take LSD. But whats the worse that could happen? I’m writing this paragraph 3 days after this fact. Certain parts of my brain still hurt a bit when certain things happen…I’m assuming it is because of depleted something or other.  Enjoy the unedited ramblings of an Acid Trip….

Each rule seperates an A4 page in Microsoft Word.

I will just add on this addictive acid trip that your deepest memory of being in an English class was a dream. To be more precise: You’re in a room where you are in the far left corner and always run up and presenting something to a teacher. There is no classroom that exists like that. Its Fucked up thinking about it right now. A dead giveaway is that the teacher ‘s desk is facing the door/entrance/exit and there are no windows pointing “outside”. There is no possible place or time that existed because it is a conglomerate of a lot of classrooms you have accumulated over the years…..think about it.

Good news is that , the memory is a manifestation of the love of your own brain…and the English language. AND ON A FINAL READ OVER: YOU HAVE ALWAYS HAD SUCH DREAMS AS A CHILD. I’M THINK THEY STARTED OCCOURING 15-18. I DON’T REMEMBER. HOW IRONIC. DAMN.

The fear of other people’s personal opinions. I think in my life I have grown to fear other people’s personal opinions. Could they also come true? Are “They” “right” or “wrong”? My fear doesn’t lie in the opinion itself. But the meta mental gymnastics that come with it. The mental energy that is expended challenging something that is no greater or lesser than your own. A personal opinion. A professional opinion is a different beast entirely, and often drink those like water dependant on how clean the source is. And I think that is my point, a personal opinion is something derived from a history of experiences unrelated. Forcing a personal opinion has no service except to those who are of like mind (who do not wish to bother experiencing x for themselves (No Shame)) , or to those who wish to impose likemindedness.

Yet it is Something that becomes, somehow, something that needs to be justified, or not justified. In order to prove or disprove like mindedness. Example outside of myself: Those that have been incorrectly accused of <insert here>, will always be proving to themselves, and/or others that x was a faulty/wrong accusation…possibly forever.
That is what I fear socially.

My biggest, deepest, personal, internal fear is that my brain breaks or my way of thinking becomes fractured. Stops. So I can no longer enjoy it. For example: I wave my hands. They blur. Yup, definitely the acid. Did my my brain always interpret my eyes see my hands bluring in this fashion? Obviously not, but I can’t remember how my brain used to do it. FUCK! It is too late anyway as that is how I see them blur now. Maybe for this trip. Maybe for the foreable future. Maybe forever! But if I didn’t remember before, does it matter now? Did it matter.

Now it is fine having such thinking on trivial things like hand waving, but there are people on this earth that have this permeant thought process to significant things. I know nothing of Autism but the being mentally trapped is one thing. But to be trapped within something beyond complete and cohesive apprehension or understanding or possible conclusion is something I fear the most and feel extreme sympathy for other people who have to experience it.

The words are all floaty again. Is it the how my eyes are picking this up? Or how my brain is interpreting it. Maybe data was lost along the way. Maybe data was made to fill in the blanks.
Sidenote: if God exists maybe he is looking down at us, with his higher level of understanding, much like we look at those with extreme autism.

Worse of all is Dementia and having all of that slowly taken away from you.

Another example: is probably best explained using algebra equation:

X = External Forces (variable)
Y = resulting /Life/whatever experience
I = me (constant)
Numbers (1,2,3,45) = life situation.
So let us say X + I = 4Y

Essentially I am saying, WE are the filter in which we experience life. I’m just scared/FEAR that my filter may brake. Life will still be there to be experienced. Thank fuck. But only by others. And, at least, just not in its fullest extent by those with fractured minds.
This explains why I am fearful of people’s personal opinions. It shouldn’t fracture the filter in which we experience life…in most cases it won’t….but it could. Which would explain why, good or bad opinion, it is met with the same thing, frozen fear. I just don’t want my filter fractured.

Note: New saying “Don’t fracture my filter”. Just because I see/absorb things differently, it doesn’t mean it is something to be broken, justified, proven wrong or correct.

“Oh <insert name> is such a <insert euphemistic inanimate object>”
“Dude/Dudette ! Don’t fracture my filter! I like him/her/it”
“yeah but did you know <insert euphemistic inanimate object> did <insert suitable factual action> ”
“ Thank You / Fuck You for letting me know Friend / Frenemy….”
Either “….now I can never <action> with <insert euphemistic inanimate object> in the same way!”
Or “….but despite / in spite of that <insert resulting action/opinion>”
Or “….So?” Sidenote: A secondary challenge for justification of “<insert euphemistic inanimate object>” opinion

1.5 Pages. Not including the article? Hopefully your mind is not fractured. It would be the subtle ironies of life such as this that may come lost on you / me. Which would be a shame as I find them so enjoyable. Who the fuck are you speaking to now anyway. I’m not doing LSD for a LOOOOOONG time. Not that this is a bad trip. I felt moments of extreme elation. Kind of like smoking weed and the music hits you just right. I felt moments of fear and darkness als But I understand now how it alters the mind and is quite spiritual (not in a holy ghost way) Something that may not be worth experiencing every day/week/month year.

1 tab 2 days ago. 4 (staggered) tabs today at around hour intervals. I may do 4 in one go if I survive this one. At least 6 months from now maybe more. And more than likely never again. I’m pretty sure (about 75%) I will survive. But the length of the “after effects” (energetic, restlessness) from one tab kept me awake all night. You said to yourself 2 a4 pages was the limit at 1.5 and look at that…one line left. Except explaining this and that took 1 line. And the “stream of consciousness” writing this has now become

stretches it out. And deep down….I’m a rebel. Why is your filter the absolute one? Why is my one? ANYWAYS…I just wanted to end with. I took 4 tabs and I think it was best I forgot if they were 100mg or 150mg.
End note: I pressed two buttons that forced double line spacing for a second…figure out what that was when you’re sober