Spiritual Journal
Nov. 2nd, 2001 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
novapsyche[a confessional, of sorts]
10/29/01, 1:43 p.m.
I had the opportunity to try opium for the first time last night. This was not that reddish, solid pseudo-opium that erowid declares is merely some kind of incense. This stuff was black and tarry. And sweet-smelling! The scent is incredibly attractive.
The group I was with decided that spreading a little over/throughout a couple bowls of cannabis would be the best way to go. The supplier said that the effects would be subtle but would be felt in less than ten seconds (the number he quoted was eight). He said the bowl would seem to be filled with top-quality cannabis, the stuff that sends you into bliss with just one hit.
Because nearly everyone ahead of me in the line began hacking up a lung, I took very careful draws on the pipe. In no time, I felt something, to be sure... very calm and relaxed. I kept wishing I could be home, here in the computer room, with a single candle against the darkness, cross-legged, closed-eyed, silent.
I've often felt that, with the aid of cannabis, I could meditate quite effectively. It seems to quietly stimulate my senses, so the meditation effected would be of an 'extending out' instead of a focusing inward. But last night, I felt I could center in on my own head and remain there.
It is odd, getting to the point where I desire to enter a meditative state, no matter the substance I've imbibed. I hope that reflects well on my character. :)
10/30/01, 4:53 p.m.
Opium has been the best answer or cure to writer's block I've had (at least of the chemical varieties of cures). It's a nostalgia-inducing substance, similar to DXM in that regard. But unlike DXM, I remain in control of my speech and muscular function, and I can guide a lot of my thought (instead of being captive and in the thrall of dynamic thought, as often occurs on DXM). Also, it relaxes a person, and doesn't produce paranoia. It's great.
I plan to use the two in conjunction later this week, in a memory-recovery mission.
10/31/01, 1:35 a.m.
One question: What is the nature of consciousness?
4:20 p.m.
When I was teaching myself "Behind the Wall," an a capella song by Tracy Chapman, I had to teach myself how to measure the silences. I made up differently measured systems/tempos for the individual brackets/pockets of silence. I practiced and practiced. In doing so, I learned how to make up my own ideas of incremental time.
11/1/01, 1:32 a.m.
If it appears that I am a happy person, a wise person, someone who loves herself, someone who has the right idea, someone who innately and always compassionate, you would not be entirely correct, and never in all ways. I am a despicable person, alone, suffering. As a matter of course, I grow depressed for no reason. I often hate myself, some deep-seated parts of myself. How can one hate himself and survive for very long? I am awful. I emotionally hurt others, and I emotionally hurt myself. I psychically damage those around me. I make people uncomfortable. I am spineless. I am petulant. Why should I care about myself? I am a sharply flawed human being.
10/29/01, 1:43 p.m.
I had the opportunity to try opium for the first time last night. This was not that reddish, solid pseudo-opium that erowid declares is merely some kind of incense. This stuff was black and tarry. And sweet-smelling! The scent is incredibly attractive.
The group I was with decided that spreading a little over/throughout a couple bowls of cannabis would be the best way to go. The supplier said that the effects would be subtle but would be felt in less than ten seconds (the number he quoted was eight). He said the bowl would seem to be filled with top-quality cannabis, the stuff that sends you into bliss with just one hit.
Because nearly everyone ahead of me in the line began hacking up a lung, I took very careful draws on the pipe. In no time, I felt something, to be sure... very calm and relaxed. I kept wishing I could be home, here in the computer room, with a single candle against the darkness, cross-legged, closed-eyed, silent.
I've often felt that, with the aid of cannabis, I could meditate quite effectively. It seems to quietly stimulate my senses, so the meditation effected would be of an 'extending out' instead of a focusing inward. But last night, I felt I could center in on my own head and remain there.
It is odd, getting to the point where I desire to enter a meditative state, no matter the substance I've imbibed. I hope that reflects well on my character. :)
10/30/01, 4:53 p.m.
Opium has been the best answer or cure to writer's block I've had (at least of the chemical varieties of cures). It's a nostalgia-inducing substance, similar to DXM in that regard. But unlike DXM, I remain in control of my speech and muscular function, and I can guide a lot of my thought (instead of being captive and in the thrall of dynamic thought, as often occurs on DXM). Also, it relaxes a person, and doesn't produce paranoia. It's great.
I plan to use the two in conjunction later this week, in a memory-recovery mission.
10/31/01, 1:35 a.m.
One question: What is the nature of consciousness?
4:20 p.m.
When I was teaching myself "Behind the Wall," an a capella song by Tracy Chapman, I had to teach myself how to measure the silences. I made up differently measured systems/tempos for the individual brackets/pockets of silence. I practiced and practiced. In doing so, I learned how to make up my own ideas of incremental time.
11/1/01, 1:32 a.m.
If it appears that I am a happy person, a wise person, someone who loves herself, someone who has the right idea, someone who innately and always compassionate, you would not be entirely correct, and never in all ways. I am a despicable person, alone, suffering. As a matter of course, I grow depressed for no reason. I often hate myself, some deep-seated parts of myself. How can one hate himself and survive for very long? I am awful. I emotionally hurt others, and I emotionally hurt myself. I psychically damage those around me. I make people uncomfortable. I am spineless. I am petulant. Why should I care about myself? I am a sharply flawed human being.