The power of psychedelics is something to be marveled at. Accompanying it always, the feeling of a return, a nostalgia familiar and foreign. They restore a sense of wonderment and wanderlust. Each moment stretches out and becomes saturated. Life becomes more alive, tactile and variegated, surfaces begin to breathe.
They encourage thought and anything fantastical. They compel you to see things in new and unfamiliar ways. It is as though you are not under the influence, but instead become the influence. Your thoughts are somehow not your own, and instead shared. Reflection holds more interest, especially in the mirror, and especially when the person staring back at you seems a stranger. Where you once fumbled through deep shadows armed only with half-dark eyes, you are now transformed, deft - an assassin's blade.
Earlier I had walked into my bathroom, and saw a star through the open window. I watched it glimmer in the distance, its pulse causing the light to flicker and bend while it travelled through time and space to arrive at my eye. As I stared I began to see more stars appearing, little perforations in nights black blanket. I couldn't help but consider the possibility that some of them might be hallucinations, astral projections of astral projections. While I deliberated, an enormous glowing plane cut through the darkness, three lights blazing, in the shape of a pyramid or a great bird. I watched it shrink in size as it moved further and faster away, a constellation in motion.
I stood struck by the beauty of watching something leave me; hemorrhaging time. Life and love are loss; candles, sunsets, falling rain, goodbyes, sirens.
The Doppler Shift never sounded so sweet.
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