It was supposed to end an hour ago, but you fell asleep now it continues, even more disconcerting than before. Don't you remember? If you fall asleep in DMT/Harmine space and you wake up, well, do you? That's the whole point, isn't it?
So you remember to enter the trance. And the voices start. "You can hear us when you enter the trance", the voices say. "Get to Theta, and you can hear us better."
I laugh. Or part of me laughs. See, this is part projection, and part reality. It really doesn't matter. That is the funny part. Terence McKenna talked to aliens. I just listen to projections. I'm not sure if my projections are telling me anything interesting. They are just putting together odd memories of past and present into weird combinations.
Until they show me a home I was at in grade school. It was at the bottom of a hill in Casper, Wyoming. A vague memory of a sleep over or staying at a babysitters. Waking up late at night to my parents picking me up. And something more. This is part of the journey. I am not afraid. I will remember this time. This is part of the journey. I am not afraid.
There were curtains. It was at a bottom of a hill. And it was late at night. Then the trance overtook me.
It had been awhile since I had seen him.
So you remember to enter the trance. And the voices start. "You can hear us when you enter the trance", the voices say. "Get to Theta, and you can hear us better."
I laugh. Or part of me laughs. See, this is part projection, and part reality. It really doesn't matter. That is the funny part. Terence McKenna talked to aliens. I just listen to projections. I'm not sure if my projections are telling me anything interesting. They are just putting together odd memories of past and present into weird combinations.
Until they show me a home I was at in grade school. It was at the bottom of a hill in Casper, Wyoming. A vague memory of a sleep over or staying at a babysitters. Waking up late at night to my parents picking me up. And something more. This is part of the journey. I am not afraid. I will remember this time. This is part of the journey. I am not afraid.
There were curtains. It was at a bottom of a hill. And it was late at night. Then the trance overtook me.
It had been awhile since I had seen him.
He is dying, as we all are, inexorably.
And I have a unique vantage point of this decline brought on by my current occupation which often delays resolution of human disputes out of an abundance of inertia. In short, this case had been dragging on for years, and like the Flying Dutchman, I see him in court only annually. I can see the gradual decline that those most familiar to him would overlook.
His last name is classically English. And I look into his dimming life and am invigorated. For I see his ancestors leaving Scandinavia or England or Ireland or perhaps Northern Europe and migrating to the new world. Their struggles are etched into his wrinkles. Their life produces this moment. And his open mouth listening to the Judge is life. Beautiful life. For this is the continuum. And in moments like these, even in Macoupin county--I am fearless.
His last name is classically English. And I look into his dimming life and am invigorated. For I see his ancestors leaving Scandinavia or England or Ireland or perhaps Northern Europe and migrating to the new world. Their struggles are etched into his wrinkles. Their life produces this moment. And his open mouth listening to the Judge is life. Beautiful life. For this is the continuum. And in moments like these, even in Macoupin county--I am fearless.
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