psychedelic mania

June 04, 2020

Last night I dreamed that I started attending a Spanish-speaking boarding school. It was small, but dreamy.

At one point I left to go see Magician for some reason. When I reached his door, he wouldn’t answer, and it occurred to me that he was ashamed. When he finally opened the door, I saw his home was in shambles. Like, shit strewn everywhere. It felt like a hostel: people everywhere, all around 20-22 years old, low lighting, kind of like a dorm or frat house.

He told me he wanted to kiss me and moved his face really close to mine, and I wanted to kiss him back just to see what it felt like, but I didn’t. I felt like he was too young for me and “asleep” spiritually. I refrained from speaking my heart because I knew he wouldn’t understand.

Before I fell asleep last night, he crossed my mind. And I started to feel a lot of compassion for my younger self, the self that showed up in my romance with Magician, the girl who felt misunderstood and was not seen for her pure heart. So I put my hand on my chest and reassured myself that I know my heart is good. I’m a good human. I’m intelligent, open-minded, and kind.

I’m also planning on tripping acid with River on Saturday, and I was thinking about how acid tends to bring out the scariest parts of people. And when I was with Esme and Jason, they both said that it showed them the sweetest parts of me and helped them get to know me better.

I remember when Magician and I would do psychedelics, the entire experience was ALWAYS about him. It would elevate his mania, and I would essentially become either his babysitter or his groupie and try to force us into being on the same page, but it would never work. Sometimes I wonder what I ever found so charming about him.

He is certainly a showman. He doesn’t know how to exist without an audience. All theatrics and no substance.

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