|
No Anal Probes, Please. before/after
I have laid low, hoping to sneak out of the month of July without furthur incident.
Life is weird and keeps on getting weirder.
At this rate, I shall be abducted by aliens before I'm thirty. The sad thing is, I'm kinda' looking forward to it.
Except for the part about anal probes. That I can do without.
Gobbled some acid on Saturday and recorded some of my guitar playing. Real loud (read: horny) crickets outside my house, which I like. Wanted to get a better third person feel for my sound. I liked it, but now I'm hypercritical of my singing, whereas before it was an unconcious easy sort of thing, and now its not.
Got off okay. Didn't get to sleep until five a.m. and this has screwed up my sleeping patterns.
My bedroom is spotless, and it gives me joy. Take that, Boneparte.
I have lived the last 2 weeks on sixty dollars, taking into consideration the travails with my automobile draining funds from me like I was a hemophiliac with a major flesh wound. That is a mean feat. Got paid yesterday, and recieved the annual increase. Whoopee. Can't wait until the real deal comes down. I have to wonder what I will do. Part of me says I will be exhorbitant. Party like mad, spend it on a list of things I already have in my head. Part of me thinks I will stick to my list, and then hoard like a hermit meiser. Well, I've got plans, and part of those plans will require cash. I hate materialisim, but I also hate not having the things I want. A lot of my anti-materialistic ideals were a priveledged veiw of my burgeosie upbringing. Even Karl Marx started out with cash.
Moday, I laid low, and they rearranged half of the floor of the building in which I work. Surreal. I didn't even notice until the end of the day.
Smoked some pot at home and it confirmed my suspicions that I have been getting flashbacks from this last round of LSD when I toke, as sometimes happen with me and LSD. Rare, but true. So its a mixed bonus. It makes any green I toke absolutely killer. But there is anxiety that I have to deal with when this happens. As long as I'm aware of it, things are cool. Took me awhile of bathing in this flashback based anxiety after smoking down before I put two and two together. Haven't had those for awhile.
First time I had a flashback, it was bothersome. The second time I tripped, I had a wicked bad trip, the only bad trip I've ever had. hallucinated out of the corner of my eye like mad, and my friends turned into odd sorts of demons. All things considered, I dealt with it rather well. For a year after that, I had flashbacks whenever I smoked down. Khe-sara-sara. Comes with the turf, and it does not bother me. Otherwise I don't have flashbacks, like, just out of the blue. Maybe once, but I am unsure. I was dispensing group therapy out in the woods to my group of junior felons, when the ground looked like t.v. snow, when the channel is switched inbetween channels. Except it was brown. And I felt weird. Sharp. Finely focused like I do when I trip, except not as strongly so. Excellent group, however. Quite a few breakthroughs.
So the office was entirely rearranged under my nose. Then yesterday, one of the department heads, the New Department Head, came up to me, introduced herself, asked for a meeting to explain what my project is, and said that she would, "...try to disturb me as little as possible."
Cool. Music to my ears with a payraise on the horizon, extreme chaos in the building, and no one really knowing what it is that I do.
Made some MP3's of my music last night with a demo program. I suppose I will start mailing some of them out like I mailed out my drivers license picture to people, for no real good reason, other than I managed to take a good drivers license photo, which is an accomplishment for anyone.
Life is all weird, but in a good way.
I shall embrace it, as it seems that is my karma.
Just no anal probes, please.
|
