I''ve been interested in hallucinogens a lot lately..having tried shrooms, acid, and mescaline all in the recent past. I've also discovered and passion I have for writing and Have made it a major hobby of mine. Here's a sort revelation I had from a flashback about a week ago and actually wrote down. It doesn't really have any deeper, scientific meaning but it sounds cool and creative I think.. -What if life is just an ever-spiraling delay of existence that feeds off the very nature of your consciousness until your own reality doesn't exist at all? What if we're all just passing through a thick plane of dense film at incomprehensible velocities, and the unknown point of our forward propulsion's ending plot is the same as our backwards origin...? This would cause all "living" matter to function as a live extension of our mental selves, figuring us all together like a large, over-lapping pentasmic loop of infinite folding quadrants, deeply gaping into a wild oblivion of interconnectedness...like a converse hue of circulating entities, inwardly affecting its own solution.
