After Eating Magic Mushrooms (Flagstaff / Sedona)

I saw you, I don’t know if you were real or not, but your hair was a color I’ve never seen before and you had kaleidoscope eyes. I really couldn’t tell if you were a goddess or slaughtered pig flesh hanging from the armpit of Yahweh. Time wasn’t really existing in any quantifiable sense and location was just another color used by the elder gods to separate us from one another. I turned my back to you because I felt as though you spoke to my neurons directly, “We can never be together” was the form that was imprinted on the space between the synapses… you were right in front of me but you were as far away as the Moon. The fish ate away my old and ragged sorrows and you fueled the fire with new desire, I was the king in the sweat box, and my inner light was being taken in little chariots back to whence it came.

If you’re reading this, and remember a beautifully wretched sane mad man appearing before you, let me know, maybe we can email back and forth. For the hallucinations I am surrounded by daily are quite boring and I desire your presence. If I can never see you in malkut, at least let me see you through the symbols made words, made real from the screen to the construct of the visible mind that exists in this fold of the “everything continuum” (the expansion of Einstein’s theory) known to me as me.

My heart is a twitching piece of mucus compared to your mercy and compassion, my wand is a dried earth worm compared to your fiery will, my money is worthless compared to the stability of your mind, my music is dissonant madness compared to your opium like humming that soothes the most ill at ease soul.

I am nothing special, I am but the bearer of your light madam.

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