Over Pinched a Microdose
I ate a microdose of Golden Teachers mushrooms. I can tell now an hour later - this is on the high end of a “microdose”. Not yet tripping, but the signs are there: whole body yawn and a tingling flutter in my stomach. Possibly too much to function in the civilian world as a civilian - whatever that means.
Nausea setting in. I try to puke in the shower, all that came up was coffee colored stomach juice and saliva. I wash my ass and say a prayer.
I could eat, but I don’t. I drink water.
Get dressed: blue jeans, ink splattered hiking boots, white t-shirt and sunglasses with polarized lenses. Sometimes I wear the shades to hide - if I’m too stoned or hungover, but generally I’ve been trying to avoid it as it feels unfriendly. Today these shades serve a function; keeping me between one world and another like a scrying mirror.
9:00 am (? when am I ?)
Seamless walk to CVS on my way to the park. A homeless woman in a wheel chair is getting a neck rub from her jobless boyfriend. I don’t give them money because they didn’t ask.
I say a deeply genuine “have a good day” to the CVS clerk that stood in present attention as I payed for a bottle of Perrier at the self checkout terminal. She said - You too, Sugar.
A thought: a high percentage of CVS, Walgreens, 711 and Dollar Tree employees have self inflicted cuts on their arms. They are always nice and have cool tattoos.
Another thought: Walgreens is a sanitized, brightly lit purgatory. If they added a mirror on the floor to create the illusion the isles went on forever you probably wouldn't notice. To this extreme CVS is the exact opposite; dark carpets, isles close and eye level with things stacked on top of things. Bountiful and fun - beach chairs sit like judge’s thrones on-top of the drink coolers and freezers. Drink Budweiser - be happy (or go to prison). It’s as if the Chief Designer took all the fun parts of a hoarders house - you turn a corner and find some oddity at eye level you didn’t know you had a need for. Maybe I need a Scooby Doo clock or an African American Santa Claus? But the hoarder needs it more than you - so you steal the clock when they’re not looking, because they will probably forget about it and toss it on the mountain of Television nicknacks, dirty laundry and cans of Bush’s Baked Beans. At CVS you can own a Scooby Doo clock outright.
Sometime between 9:00 am and forever:
I continue my walk to the park. Still feeling nauseous - I know at this moment I can choose two paths - dark rumination or a half high. The nausea is always there to peek at, like a psychological crypt full of ghouls and a skeleton with glowing green eyes and a long Gene Simmons tongue. I slam the door in his evil face and keep walking.
A nice bungalow was torn down earlier this year. No trace left. There is a sign with a picture of the future home to be built. It looks like a Mattress Plus, Wawa and Dentist Office combined into one. I place a hex on the empty lot and it’s future inhabitants entire blood-line and keep walking.
By the time I got to the park I had to take a shit so I snapped this picture and started walking home. On my way back I saw a senior aged Jewish woman pulling weeds in her yard. Her dog ran up and tried to sniff my balls. I pet it on the head and ask the woman what’s the deal with the development that’s been stalled across the street from her house. She scowled at me and said - I don’t know.
A thought: Upper class Jews and WASPs are essentially the same people. They are stuck up and hate Palestinians.
This concludes my notes.