Anamnesia
Rising Star
I kneel down now before the wise.
I am lost. I am cold. I cry for myself.
I don't know what to do or where to go.
I cannot find the confidence I felt so strongly when I was 21 and fresh on mushrooms.
Maybe the problem is precisely the fact I haven't taken a heavy dose in a long long time.
And the ego has reasserted itself, perhaps with a stronger grip than ever it was before.
For three years I went to a university I wasn't really happy attending.
I didn't respect it much because in my perception it's not really prestigious.
And i'm one who is deadly with his sword of articulation.
I'm one who had no fear in class because I saw the end of philosophy.
Professors appalled me with their lifelessness.
I had it made. I really did.
School ended for me. I slowly became isolated from the world.
Not one to purposely go out meeting people, I keep to myself.
Doing that which I simply can't help doing.
Six months later out of university because I ran out of money,
having maximally exploited all the free debt to raise mushrooms and extract dimethyltryptamine,
I discover cryptocurrencies.
I find out about Bitcoin.
That's when I lost my soul.
Now I am rich, but I have alienated myself somehow from everyone I know.
And it's not as though anyway I knew a lot of people.
I used to say I don't have many friends but the ones I do have count for a thousand of your false socialized media-addicted dopamine-tripping friends.
Now I don't know what to do.
I realize now the mushrooms were the only thing that ever really mattered to me.
Cryptocurrency riches if they do not empower a new attempt, a new revival in me,
a re-ignition of my soul's spiritual fire, then I may as well be as good as dead.
I hate feeling sorry for myself.
I hate not being able anymore not to know what is right or what is true.
Where is that confidence, that sheer power I knew,
that glorious elation I felt through and through.
If my mission on Earth is not to serve the mushroom,
then I know not what I am here for.
Magical power comes not by fluke of talent. It comes by pain.
Terence Mckenna knew the singularity is in the mushroom.
He knew the mushroom resurrected meaning into view and feeling.
Meaning is in the responsible? Is that it?
Or was Mckenna right about everything? He was right about everything.
I pray for the strength and courage to enter again into the fight against the suppression of human consciousness by criminalization of these substances. I ask for the power to remember who I Remembered I was three years ago when I was 21. Please return to me my reverence and insatiable curiosity for knowing the nature of the universe.
The only way I may rise out of this pit of lonely darkness is to experience an anamnesis of cosmic identity.
I am lost. I am found.
Nothing nothing nothing.
I am lost. I am cold. I cry for myself.
I don't know what to do or where to go.
I cannot find the confidence I felt so strongly when I was 21 and fresh on mushrooms.
Maybe the problem is precisely the fact I haven't taken a heavy dose in a long long time.
And the ego has reasserted itself, perhaps with a stronger grip than ever it was before.
For three years I went to a university I wasn't really happy attending.
I didn't respect it much because in my perception it's not really prestigious.
And i'm one who is deadly with his sword of articulation.
I'm one who had no fear in class because I saw the end of philosophy.
Professors appalled me with their lifelessness.
I had it made. I really did.
School ended for me. I slowly became isolated from the world.
Not one to purposely go out meeting people, I keep to myself.
Doing that which I simply can't help doing.
Six months later out of university because I ran out of money,
having maximally exploited all the free debt to raise mushrooms and extract dimethyltryptamine,
I discover cryptocurrencies.
I find out about Bitcoin.
That's when I lost my soul.
Now I am rich, but I have alienated myself somehow from everyone I know.
And it's not as though anyway I knew a lot of people.
I used to say I don't have many friends but the ones I do have count for a thousand of your false socialized media-addicted dopamine-tripping friends.
Now I don't know what to do.
I realize now the mushrooms were the only thing that ever really mattered to me.
Cryptocurrency riches if they do not empower a new attempt, a new revival in me,
a re-ignition of my soul's spiritual fire, then I may as well be as good as dead.
I hate feeling sorry for myself.
I hate not being able anymore not to know what is right or what is true.
Where is that confidence, that sheer power I knew,
that glorious elation I felt through and through.
If my mission on Earth is not to serve the mushroom,
then I know not what I am here for.
Magical power comes not by fluke of talent. It comes by pain.
Terence Mckenna knew the singularity is in the mushroom.
He knew the mushroom resurrected meaning into view and feeling.
Meaning is in the responsible? Is that it?
Or was Mckenna right about everything? He was right about everything.
I pray for the strength and courage to enter again into the fight against the suppression of human consciousness by criminalization of these substances. I ask for the power to remember who I Remembered I was three years ago when I was 21. Please return to me my reverence and insatiable curiosity for knowing the nature of the universe.
The only way I may rise out of this pit of lonely darkness is to experience an anamnesis of cosmic identity.
I am lost. I am found.
Nothing nothing nothing.