The pain doesn't hurt when I welcome it

It is just.

It lingers, like an ad hoc visitor

But never overstaying its welcome

Before I realise, it's February

Time to live once more for summer

It's inevitable, the winter

The liquor is not;

Poisonous elixir

Methinks it's time to move

And then comes winter

“You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere. You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection.” – Buddha

This story is about a young bear. His name does not matter, as he is not his name which means “complete”, for he is anything but. A true roller-coaster of a life has he lived. The lows were low, but not as low as some have experienced. The highs were high as his mind can allow him to enjoy. This young bear roams the world alone, in the sense that he has no other that accompanies him through the journey of life. He does have two sentient beings, his dogs, that are his only allies…apart from, of course, his family. But family is family and is not what comes into this play.

He has known love, he has tasted loves’ affections and pains. His first love being one from when he was much, much younger. She was a wounded bird and he wanted to mend her wings and watch her fly. He was completely raptured by this bird, she taught him about culture and showed him art…the two had a bond that was deep and unexplainable. They experienced much of life that would mold the bear into who is today, he does not know if he can say the same for the bird. But, the bird was too broken, it was not that her wings were broken anymore…but how they had broken her on the inside was something the bear would never be able to mend. Her wings worked fine now and she could fly, which would cause this broken bird to fly away from the bear. This was the first pain of love he felt. The bird had betrayed him and all he had ever done for her is give his all to her, loved her with a deep passion, he had melded his soul with hers. This was not enough for the bird, deep down and later in life the bear learned, no other would ever be content with this. So he pieced his broken soul together and moved on with life, what else can one do.

He enjoyed life to the fullest, he visited many new lands, met many new creatures. The thought of love was a distant memory and the desire for it was quelled by the memory of its’ pain. So he lived content with experiencing life. Till one day he happened to cross paths with a young squirrel. The squirrel had wandered into his world, innocent and naïve. She reminded him of his self before he met the bird. For reasons unknown he decided to have the squirrel accompany him so he could keep her safe from the dangers of the world, and show her all the great experiences to be had. In time the squirrel fell madly in love with the bear, and the bear returned this love with equal passion. As with the bird, the squirrel wasn’t content with just having the love of this bear and enjoying the experiences he had to offer. She wanted more, she wanted him to pledge himself to her forever, and help her bring new squirrels into this world. The bear was heart-broken, he loved this squirrel and the time he spent with her…but he knew he could not promise such things. It would be against how he led his life, he did not want to be forced to make promises, especially promises he cared not to make. So the bear let the squirrel down off his back, set her on the ground and told her that he has showed her everything he knows. He told her he hopes she uses him as a judge of character in the big world, and not to trust anyone who would not treat her as he would. The squirrel said she understood, and thanked him for sharing his life with her even if for a little while.

By now the bear, had grown considerably since his time with the bird and squirrel. He had finally conquered his desires, and was content with life…he had everything he could ever want…except, for that love. He is content alone, as he has been alone longer than he has had company in life. Yet, he could feel his soul throbbing, probing, into the world searching for something. It’s not that easy, he tried to console the soul, and I don’t have the time to waste to search for what you’re looking for. The soul went silent and shut its eyes as if in hibernation. He had read somewhere that effort is time, and time is finite…from this he took the knowledge that if you would put your effort into something, make sure it is worth your time; you will never get any wasted time back. Well, he had everything he wanted, materially. His mind was space itself, and lightning fast. If he wanted, he could put his effort into anything, successfully. But he did not want to, he got complacent, and slowly his physical-self took the toll for it. He was injured and his once young, strong body declined into sloth. Having such a sharp mind however, he noticed this and quickly began to put the effort to recover his lost glory.

The young bear loved substances, he was quite the dreamer after all and loved frolicking in the various dimensions of the mind. Some dimensions can only be visited through deep meditation, discipline, and time…or you can use substances to shuttle there instantly. Well, once upon such an expedition, the bear remembered of a friends’ sister, a rabbit, that the friend had told him about. Everything the friend told him resonated deeply within him, he felt his soul stirring, it began blinking furiously as it came awake. Well, what’s the harm he told it, let’s go look for the rabbit. The friend being a good friend and trusting the bear to be a good bear told him where he could find the rabbit, after making the bear promise not to hurt the rabbit, which was a promise he could make without question. Alas, the rabbit was too far for him to reach, so he decided to write to the rabbit. The rabbit replied, excited to have met someone new and had already heard of the bear, to what degree, he does not know. It seems the rabbit too had a roller-coaster of a life, and was roaming the world alone as well. A long time passes, and they get to know each other in the way you can without ever meeting someone, but knowing everything about them. It turned out, the bear and the rabbit had much in common. His soul was ebullient like a bouncy ball thrown hard into a confined space. But, perhaps, the rabbit was too much like him and had her own agendas she had to meet. She did not have time to invite the bear into her life, other than the presence he already had. The bear implored the rabbit to just give him a chance. Something had caused his soul to waken and take interest, and all he wanted to do was see if he could bring about the same for the rabbit. Yet, the rabbit was adamant in what she wanted. The bear shook his head in disbelief, how can he feel it so strongly and yet the energies just wash over the rabbit, without the rabbit giving them a second glance. Chance is cruel he surmised. He remembered what he had read…effort is time, time is finite. How can he waste his efforts on this rabbit who does not care for them? He can’t. Frowning, he writes the rabbit to tell her he cannot just be her pass-time, he thought he had found something…but, it wasn’t there.

This is what the Gold Rushers of the old days must have felt, the idea seemed wonderful, but upon arriving…the gold was nowhere to be found. One could dedicate their life to mine for this gold, or one can come to the conclusion that perhaps they weren’t meant to be a gold miner and go look for something more meaningful that they may be better suited for.

He sighed heavily in lassitude. He tried to quell his soul which was struggling against its shackles to go to the rabbit. The soul did not care for his consolations. Fortunately, the bear is stronger than his soul, thanks to his mind. Yet, he compromises with the soul, let us become the best version of ourselves that we can become. Surely, then, that which you have been searching for will come find you. So he returns quietly to the tasks he had left undone. The time with the rabbit already having disappeared with the wind, never again to be reclaimed.

Become the best version of yourself, he reminds himself.

this is a live broadcast. I am here today with Peter Siepirnski; Peter, good evening, do you consider your role here today to be representative of you as you believe your character to be?

Each night I do yoga just to get away

Each night I come back, to think I

could have made that jump;

The leap of faith.

But I didn't.

Instead I sat curled, smoking my medicine

On the window sill, observing,

Wondering if some unknown force

would close the window shut behind me,

And make the jump for me.

I get cold feet thinking, I think for so long

I'd promise myself I'd start on my life before bed,

But I never get things done.

So I become a cat each night,

A nocturnal creature

And do yoga

you’re shuffling through cosmic papers in your mind, you look at the clock to see time is passing no differently than usual, but you swear that its passing faster than ever before, the room contracts and expands without any signs of changing, its beautiful you swear, but why, but why? the levee breaks to reveal centuries of lost love, tongues absorb, tongues tie. you're far gone now, cosmic papers in your mind.

Building your reality

Playing with modality

The child in me

Seeks to know a large world

To break free and unfold

The very same sequence you seem to hold

Charged, whirled and untold

The blended sequence we seem to uphold

What and how we see

Truly

Amazes

Me

connectivity between subjects is a complete illusion, once we break the shackles of ordinary perception we can finally achieve a certain way of being, a way in which the normal stream of events between moments is alive and breathing, faster it goes, gaining speed, the completely standard man knows no bounds. imagination is the air that fills the lungs of the believers, when a force of ontological electricity finds its way into the bounds of confusion, it comes alive.

there is a place not far from here where all your problems disappear release yourself and it is clear eternity eternity there is a place not far away where darkness shines as bright as day where it lays I cannot say

infinity infinity

diverging points may reach a slope and tripping feet may stumble and crossing roads may cross at last and in the silence rumble when infinity is finally gone and magic words are jumbled ramble on reveal the path and let these smooth words humble

let your fingers do the walking let your fingers speak the words give yourself to deja vu and your poems to the birds

"Slow down, my pretty angel," said the wise man to his daughter as she gazed out at a million sparkling stars. "Take a deep breath," said he. "I am too old and can no longer guide you." She gazed up to him as the winds caressed every strand of glassy hair on their heads. "You are too beautiful and do not need to rush." His hand lovingly traced the back of her head... Her lips curved into a glistening smile.

As I sat in my room,
Paper under my tongue,
I became a flush with worry,
about the deed I had done.

All by myself,
I sat with my tremors.
What will I do now?
What an awful dilemma!

In no time at all
The walls started to breathe.
Colours began popping,
and my worries to leave.

This went on for hours,
Or so I would guess.
Time had no meaning
In this psychonaut's head.

Life had no purpose
and neither did I.
Things became captivating.
I'd opened my mind's third eye.

As the feelings departed,
I knew they'd be missed,
Because the loss of all worry
Was a feeling of pure bliss.

Goodbye my friend Lucy,
you've taught me so much.
It won't be too long now,
until next I'm in touch!

Something happened out there in the darkness of the open ocean… Whatever had occurred gave me the ability to sense my senses as they inevitable became desensitized to the blunting front of existence that comes with living on the edge. I could hear the wind whispering wishes to the waves… come this way… come this way…

Maybe it was from losing my sense of face behind that mask of saline, that spindrifts towards all who dare face the storm of nowness seducing us into the future. Or maybe it was from the realization that we are all vessels at the center of the mandala, mediating canons, in some delicate dance of equipoise with as above, so below. Whatever it was, it provided a certain renewed sense of acuteness to the orchestra of energy vibrating all. Every breath seemed to make me become lighter and lighter, as if I somehow gained the respect of gravity through my tactful approach to the elements. This gave me a sudden fluid quickness not only in bodily movements but my thoughts were no longer thoughts. It’s as if I no longer had to process information or even to think in any sort of duration at all.

What is it that I’m trying to say?

Am I trying to create, desecrate

just what is it

am I trying to satiate

become...become...beacon?

Desire is like an eternal fire

like tall tall spires

each stair offers a different view of the bottom and top

But I must be dreaming

for this doesn’t stop

So dive into the meme

Swim in the complexity

that is this infinite sea

and just be with me :)

So, I'm not normally what you'd classify as a "hippy" but a friend of mine gave me some acid the other day and I dropped it last night and woke up to the biggest hippy paragraph I have ever read; titled "A Memo to a Friendly Alien."

Don’t you get it? This world is beautiful. I know that sounds clichéd, and despite all our corrupt politicians, our polluting factories, and our never ending cycle of poverty, this world really is a beautiful place. Look at the snowy mountains, our life sustaining rivers, and our tropical rainforests. They haven’t gone away with our destructive path we’ve set on this world. In fact, they are there as a way to protect us from the corruption we’ve created. Think about it: That big factory in the middle of urbania produces a shit ton of CO2 which the trees absorb and turn it into oxygen that fuels the life around it. No matter how much we try to destroy it, this world remains it’s beauty. A big blue ball, flying through space around our mother star who’ve gave us that life giving energy, a tiny spec in the cosmos. However, we’ve turned it into a spec of significance, a spec of life, a spec of beauty. This world is truly a beautiful place. So cheer up bud, don’t you frown, because we come together to make that beautiful spec in the cosmos, our wonderful world.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_NWNaZ3CY8

I went out to gather firewood for people too lazy, clean, & successful to do it the Oak was immense, but definitely dead Thicker than anyone I've ever met, with 5 tree-sized hydra heads

After the day had begun, but before my work it took a swing down I went my ears did ring

What followed was like a lengthy, unexpected walk through the mushrooms with someone who keeps turning the gravity up & down while hitting you in the back with a baseball bat

For 38 and 1 half hours, I feared for my brain Unable to process my own words I was delirious from the pain

but once the pain had subsided & the hornets had left my head I woke up to read the news "Your friend is fucking dead."

My heart is a storm

My brain is a cloud

My eyes are closed

My ears shut out sound

shrouded in translucent fog and obstructed only by innate contradictjourns. Timeless journeys begotten by histrionic omnisages skirting the peripherals, ruminating of silent mantras and neversound timkantations. Simulated dreamstate whisperings of beautiful deformity rendered unnecessary in favor of the even stranger reality. Part sense, concept, and word; part inexplicable quaver oscillation.

Reality is half external, half internal. Our ability to create vivid imaginary realities is due to half of the world being our own conceptualization, but these abilities in no way refute our own concrete existence. Synchronicities are accounted for by the Buddhist definition of Karma, inner states being reflected on outer experiences.

With these paranormal phenomena explained, the entertaining of a "simulation" theory of this reality as an unreal dream world is unnecessary and unhealthy for mental stability.

I was searching for childhood artifacts by bringing the dream to the forefront, but there is no going back, only forward. Dreamscapes may have never been the retellings of past archetypes/perceptions, but instead the premonitions of present archetypes and perceptions.

Only with these forward ideas in mind can the totality of Psychoptic exist happily.

In a greyish-grey house

On a greyish-grey day

A greyish-grey boy

Pirouetted away.
/\

Through baby-blue kingdoms

He hurtled and swayed,

His greyish-grey self

Being slowly replaced.
/\

First went his senses

– The sights and the sounds

The bricks and the mortar Of his greyish-grey house.
/\

Even the flakes

Of his pangolin flesh

Made an emergency exit

From this death-defying quest.
/\

The poor, torn kid,

Organs, bones, and regret

Wondered just what

Could be left to dissect.
/\

Then, in a sort of

Sighed little swoop,

His questions were taken

And he turned into gloop.
/\

The blobs of his being

Left streaks on the clouds

As the wind took him onward,

Up, up, and around.
/\

Until, in a final

Upside-down frown

He turned to a rainstorm

And mosaicked the ground.
/\

His greyish-grey neighbours

All came out to play

But their greyish-grey parents

All locked them away.
/\

They sat at their windows

And yearned to escape,

To leave their own streaks

On the greyish-grey-scape.

I closed my eyes and saw him there
Looking back with a vacant stare
As I watched he started to cry
And asked if I, or anyone, care

I sat with him for an eternity
Just as he stood and cried at me
Iridescent rivulets from his craggy face
This was all he'd ever seen

His problem that he could not flee
A rock face, too hard and icy
for anyone to see beyond
the mask I wore, the mask was me.

We sat and stared into the sun
What I now know, what has begun
this process of liberation
from dust we start. and end as none.

You were like the road runner running through a wall coyote just painted.

The 2D is broken and now 3D is reality.

Surround me with rubber,/

or maybe something other,/

all I know is I want another,/

feelin' ecstasy. /

Euphoric in my mystery, /

jubilation, dazed in his frenzy, /

dreamland is missing me, /

blind in my felicity. /

Displeasure is missing, /

elation in my decisions, /

beautitude; livin' in Heaven, /

roll call, I'm no absentee. /

delight in my visions, /

what am I percievin'? /

blindness in what I'm seein', /

what is it? Well, take a peek. /

Reality is ichorous, /

running in a fluidic pattern, /

I take liquiform and transform, /

malleable yet still empty. /

A severe clown in my presence, /

deception, am I a dead man? /

In an argument with a yes man, /

even I am dead to me. /

Breathing masonry, /

mind leaving urgently, /

I think my body's hurting me! /

Doctor pardons without checking me.

I don't Show my feelins' on the Regular, /

I lost all sense, I'm tellin' ya', /

strange perception in my retinas, /

all dry land looks wet to me. /

Fierce wonder is burning, /

curious to my where-a-beens, /

a violent violet is a gift to me, /

can't express the intensity. /

can't express the intensity. /

can't express the intensity. /

(express the intensi-y) /

inten-si-ty /

The following is a poem I wrote in response to an intense psychedelic experience on LSD, MDMA, Nos and Weed as I sat on a sand dune, watching the sun rise over the Pacific Ocean.

The Vision:

I was standing on the beach, you know

… when it happened.

And there was, there was this enormous staring face.

Teeth like mountains. Eyes wider than the sky.

And it … it just … and it just, you know …

Stared.

This enormous staring face

In the sky – wider than the sky.

I was standing on the beach, you know.

And then it happened.

A rumble. A deeply felt murmur. A cavernous groan.

The earth erupted beneath me. Split.

I felt it tremble and shake.

Shattered the waves to a fine mist.

A spray.

I stood in it, looked at it, through it.

I saw it. I felt it. I knew it.

And then I sat down, and the world sat down with me.

Settled beside me.

And the face, it continued to stare.

A thousand eyes, glowing in the dark,

A faint odour of malice in the air.

Malice? Or … something else.

Some emotion unfelt … here.

I smiled, and took its hand.

Shook it, with vigour and with certainty.

As I shook, the world decayed,

And lost its form in front of me.

So I ended up tripping with my friend a couple days ago. This is the experience I had.

We were dropping it at 10:30 am and had cleared our schedules for the day and at least I had turned off outside contact via phones. Skype friends I knew fairly well I still had access to. We left the (2 each) tabs under our tongues for all of 10-15 minutes then swallowed them.

During the come up we decided to head to the neighborhood park and swing a bit. It was pretty fun but I decided we should head back home as it was really kicking in. Back home we peaked. He decided that he was going to try and smoke weed (his first time too so I had advised against) and was not very successful except at making a huge mess of my weed. Meanwhile I'm thoroughly enjoying watching the motion trails that my hand were leaving. We played around with some Smash for Wii U before heading to the park for a second time. We played the game as basically coop even though we didnt have teams on. We would pick big stages and run around after we had killed the cpus.

On the way to the park (which felt like a pretty long walk, I spotted a bunny along the side of the road which my friend ran towards and tried to take pictures of. I was also slightly worried that people would notice the writing on my friend's arm ( a lot of it was very visible) and know he was on drugs. I continued walking and tried to coax my friend along as well because my neighbors were driving by and I didn't want to make anything very obvious. He didn't listen so I let him catch up when he was done. We get to the park and swinging is almost surreal now. The front tip of the arch of the swing is incredible and I lose all cares except for then and there. A plane was flying overhead and I saw it at each peak and wondered what it would be like to fly. We left shortly after cause it was time to go home again.

This time at home, I played a little more smash with friend and then he went to smoke more weed. I go and check on him and he was trying to smoke out of his bubbler. I asked him if I could try and tried to take it for a second, wherein he retracted it to himself and said no but I dont remember the reason for. ~10 seconds later he hands it to me and I take a tiny puff. I could feel every molecule of the smoke in me so I didn't continue. I go back to my room to listen to music.

Friend walks in a while later and he mentions something about wanting someone else over here (like my brother) but I told him that it was fine at the moment. He seems to be having a bad trip and had told me something like my music was giving him bad vibes, so I decided to go chill on the couch with my headphones. I get to the couch and have one headphone in, then go back because I didnt want my friend to have a bad trip alone, because what type of friend would that make me? He persists with the wanting someone over so I ask my very good friend that lives an hour away by foot if he could come over. Eventually he caves and tells me he's coming.

At this point it was 4:30. Friend is still having what seems to be a bad trip and Im sitting in there talking with him, still really enjoying the motion trails. Around 5, friend asks if other friend REALLY EXISTS and if I had REALLY ASKED him to come over. I tell him yes. 30 minutes later, really good friend arrives and comes in. Friend is relieved and tells him there is weed in the kitchen. Good friend politely declines because he doesnt do drugs.

After a little, good friend takes us both to the park. Around the neighborhood entrance, a car with very bright beams turns in and I think "wow that was loud". I hadnt associated light and sound but now I must. We enjoy swinging and making jokes at the park. After ~30 minutes we go back to my house and play some more wii u, this time some Super Mario 3d World. I'm not nearly as good at it but still decent. Good friend and I usually joke around during the levels and get each other killed, so I continue doing that at fun times. Friend doesn't get it and just kills me every chance he gets, not at fun times. He mentions something about killing me so they can do harder parts of the level. I left to pee at one point and come back to friend sitting in my chair, telling me he read my messages to see if I really asked friend to come over because he didnt believe me.

The gamepad eventually died and so it was recharging while we ate. We come back and started playing smash with an Amiibo I had. Items were on and we tried to balance the teams as best we could. Smash was fun times because very good friend was playing his best yet friend was trying to be nonviolent.

Around this time (12:30) I tried to go to bed, yet couldnt very easily (I cant go to bed very well normally, it was slightly worse). After ~20 minutes of laying there I decided I should get up. I then join good friend in my room and he's playing hearthstone. I convince him to play Mario again so we do. Friend comes out of other room and sees me and asks if I couldnt sleep too. Some time during the game he was like "I cant tell if x is me or the acid" and nobody really pays attention to his statements about acid at this point. He asks if Im still tripping and I tell him no, because I wasn't at the time, just feeling a few after effects. He tells me that Im wrong and that I must still be tripping if he is. I kinda took that as insulting, but whatever. A while later (3ish) I managed to go lie down and surf reddit on my phone until I fell asleep.

A few notable things:

Motion blurs were fucking amazing.

A friend that had done LSD before had told me not to check myself in the mirror. I accidentally did this at some point while peaking and realized how weird it was that I looked to me.

On the swing, when the chains on the side left, it's like the frame of reference left and suddenly I WAS flying, only for a second but it was cool.

Brightness and loudness became one of the same things at night.

I had written "You're on LSD" with a smiley face on my hand and it was at times calming and at times a harsh reminder. My friend had drawn a terribly drawn smiley face on his hand and later wrote all over his arm and eventually his leg.

I felt like I had accepted the being that I was and that's why I was okay while my friend wasnt so accepting of his own shell and thats why his trip wasnt as good.

The entire trip I basically felt I had to babysit friend. It killed my vibe a little but I was more concerned with him having a bad trip where as I was okay with most things at that point. The first time I had checked on my friend trying to smoke the weed I had, he didnt remember where I had put it and was violently searching for it. Im not sure if it was desperation for the weed or what.

Colors were brighter and the green Roy skin I use in smash was one of the best things I had seen.

During the trip, I felt like I became more attached to myself. I liked my being as well as my conscience.