So this is just a few steps from Spam, BUT I wanna describe some things in my tiny little "damned meaty tacos" trip, yet have never liked the hubris associated with people's usual thoughts while on such substances. To quote the subject of the video just linked, "what's happening on the outside can look a liiittle bit different than what's happening on the inside." So all of that said, setting the stage: Co parent left a bit below a bed of lettuce that she didn't figure was sufficient to do anything, but she's got a two- or three-bowl tolerance right now. My tolerance has always been incredibly low, and for anything. One or two good water pipe hits and shit's philosophical in a hurry.
A few moments in, all peripheral vision started to get kaleidoscopic, so much so that focused vision was unexpectedly narrow. As that progressed and a decided silliness approached, looking at my arms and legs move around was odd but enjoyable: It felt like they were not a part of me, that the nerves that told me they were moving were dulled, and also like they weren't just jointed at the elbows and knees, but at every couple of inches of limb, so they visually looked like they were waving like a flag or something. All lateral movement felt like sailing. Given that moving the upper limbs usually feels like a chore, this sensation was incredibly gratifying.
Emotionally, it felt like stress reduced, but stayed present, and coalesced with a nice, subtle feeling of self affirmation, and I could certainly feel myself grinning throughout (I was either bumbling about the kitchen making a grilled cheese sandwich for little one or sitting on the couch, and the visuals progressed far enough that I didn't have the wherewithal to play video games on the phone). Sex, I can imagine, would be incredible. Just right now, I'm really jealous that deific, lovely co parent and her painfully conventionally attractive and comforting and oft-emotionally intelligent ex-girlfriend got to do this together, and as they let it slip, with no clothes on. But expressing jealousy now should not indicate I felt any jealousy whatsoever during this little mini-trip. No, there was just fascination and what I would describe as sibling-like affection with everything and everyone who had been on my mind that day.
There was a feeling of having no moral obligations, only simple moral imperatives, urges to "be good." There wasn't even any philosophical idealism versus pragmatism battle. It was like a co-dependent relationship with morality versus a well-adjusted, reciprocal, open, honest one, and that's something I'm trying to remember and carry into sobriety on a permanent basis.
I've got a theory that damned meaty tacos, if you're introspective at all after consuming them, cause you to feel all your cosmologies as even more valid than you did going into it, to confirm your philosophical suspicions, so relatively recent dalliance with bits of nihilism in my case got a lot of confirming feelings and thoughts. I felt like it was important to have my whole self break down into nothing but scattered carbon, then whenever the Sun explodes, whatever results, that there is something to be said for being literally "down to earth," that calming the fuck down with all that grandiosity for me personally featured more virtue than any expression of sentience I could manifest. Everything was set free, moving independently with some acquiescence to the ecosystem in an intimate manner.
Anyhow, I want to do this again with a full dose, and with a trusted friend. It'd be awesome if sex were possible, but only of course with a pre-trip consent conversation, and suitably and contentedly still awesome to not have sex at all after a pre-trip non-consent conversation. I wasn't horny during the trip. Not any more than normal when enjoying lettuce. The experience itself was extremely satisfying from a sensory point of view. Sex would add to the sensory experience but mostly just be supremely emotionally exciting. Maybe just hanging out with somebody else and laughing at each other would be just as good from the emotional point of view.
Thanks for reading, and humoring my belief that this was worth recording. Loves.
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