One of the loaded consequences that come with dabbling in the cosmos is the next day you feel like the gods plucked you out of your bed in the middle of the night and dipped you, ever so slowly, into a deep puddle of solvent or acid, just long enough to strip off the outer layer of your soul. The gods are cruel in that way, as they dangle you above understanding, only to give you just a taste. All that rust or varnish that built up around the idea of who you are gets dissolved and you are left with some sort of raw, pink version of yourself. The night before, you were screaming through the pantheon of time and understanding, giggling to no end, but the early morning light your emotions are razor sharp and distinct – they are held at a distance, like a lone streetlight on a country road in Maine.

After your trip, you should’ve come to acknowledge the underlying fear and other emotions that revolve around the sun of human experience, like satellites or planets. This might sound tiresome and it can be, but that nova of insight is where you find out the pretty little details about yourself and others and life. When you are so close to the nerve that you can see existence jumping from the pockets of humanity like electricity from a Tesla coil, you know you did it right.

As you tread water in the lake of what you thought you knew, I giant neon man jumps in. You are struggling with all the information without his disruption, but you are stuck in your position. What are you going to do? Accept your fate or swim toward shore avoiding consequence. You might say it’s unnerving to hear such improbable nonsense from the mouth of a law abiding citizen. But what is one supposed to do in the cosmic wake of fat man’s psychedelic swan dive? Cringe and let it wipe you away only to become a shell of what you were, or ponder and try to explain it. This is life, after all. We are here to learn. I’ll take the latter of the two options, so it wasn’t all for nothing.

There you go, that describes Saturday for me pretty damn well. Not every Saturday is like that, unfortunately. But last Saturday, I was reminded that Death becomes us and Life swallows us whole, even on the good days. These things happen and psychedelics can help you get there. It’s a good thing, believe me. Now, it’s time for me to go back to bed.