Not so Deep Thoughts, stitched together as my opening essay . . .

I’d never heard of DMT until a few months ago when “DMT: The Spirit Molecule” appeared on my Netflix recommendation screen.  As someone struggling for enlightenment for nearly twenty years, I was energized at the thought that I might have found a way to finally gain some insight into life's mysteries.  However, to this point I have received disappointingly little insight and the doors that have been opened have led to more questions.

My experiences have offered a quick glimpse of a more comforting realm of existence than the one I normally inhabit, and for that I am grateful.   I have heard a voice, but I have no idea who it belongs to.  Deceased love ones?  Aliens?  Different entities that exist in different parts of my brain? A teenager controlling my life with his Playstation 2020? Jesus? God?  At different times, I have believed that each of these was the entity that seemed to be my overseer.  When I ask a question, the response seems to be in the form of a smug riddle or hint.  Something like asking the pompous computer geek to explain a concept that he doesn’t fully understand himself.  I have been told to stop worrying about figuring things out, and I worry that I can’t stop trying to figure out what that means.