KARBYTES_JOURNAL_2022_ENTRY_287
A few hours after sharing the journal entry I wrote while coming down from the penis envy shrooms while still a bit high (the “relaxing, happy” phase which comes after the “intense, morbid, acutely aware of the macroscopic” phase) on Twitter, Minds, and Facebook, I decided to delete those social media posts because I thought the quality of that journal was low. I think the crickets normally pause for a few seconds to rest between chirping for about ten seconds nonstop and that their stopping was not a result of me directing my attention to the sounds the crickets were making. Also, when I described the memory I had of my cat “raping” its sister in the backyard, I think I mixed up that memory with some other memory (of one of my parents telling me what they saw that cat do: making eye contact with that human while peeing on shoes seemingly in protest about something). The only sensory information details I remember about the scene in the backyard was both of those cats behaving relatively normally (for cats). The brother cat was not looking me directly in the eye and the sister looked like she was grimacing in pain (which made me associate that scene with rape because my brain was spinning out a lot of subjective associations to paint a narrative which was self-serving rather than more objectively true). Cat penises have tiny one-way barbs on them which scratch the interior of the female cat’s vagina (and that scratch causes her to ovulate). The female cat was not resisting. Hence, in retrospect, I would not call what I remember seeing cat rape. (Also, when I locked the wild cat in the house as a child and watched it panic and claw at the windows because it wanted to get out, I was not just entertained by what I saw; I felt sorry for the creature. The way I described that recalled memory was spun in a way which made me sound like a sadist, power-hungry control freak (and that might be a result of having been so relentlessly harassed via auditory messages sent to my brain by the police during the peak of the shrooms trip)).
I took the largest shroom in the pill bottle immediately after I exited the Castro Valley BART station at approximately 11PM. As I walked towards Castro Village, I hardly noticed any effects and was talking to myself about how I felt persecuted by the government and by society for being “too smart” to get hired at a grocery store yet lacking qualifications such as a college degree, letters of recommendation, recent internship experience, et cetera to get a “proper” job. (I was saying that, as a “smart” person, I was only allowed to have a prestigious “white collar” job or else no job). As I walked through Castro Village and past the clock tower, I noticed some person wrapped up in blankets on top of some cardboard and thought that person might get evicted because that person was camping very close to restaurant areas. (I also thought that the person who appeared to be homeless was an actor helping me make sense of some bigger picture phenomenon). As I got closer to VDT’s house, the shrooms were kicking in and I felt “forced” to not waste my energy by making any frivolous movements. I stopped talking out loud and was walking in a determined manner because I wanted to get to my “dying place” (I mean my latest camping spot) so that I could lay down and relax. By the time I got to VDT’s house, I did the usual ritual of touching the big tree in the yard and continued walking uphill. I did not enjoy the police taunting me during that phase of the trip because they kept making anxiety-inducing sounds and cruel, intrusive “humor” sounds which I thought was them trying to make me waste my shroom trip and only think banal, depressing, and unproductive thoughts because those police were opposed to decriminalizing psychedelics and wanted everyone to remain either sober or else drunk on alcohol and other prescription drugs which are habit forming.
When I got to that ledge near the fenced off forest area across the street from some nice two-story houses where I have recently seen deer and coyotes traversing, I scrambled up the incline feeling wounded and ready to drop down to the ground. I was breathing heavily from the strenuous uphill walk. I went through the “muscle memory” sequence of taking out my sleeping bag and securing my possessions in my backpack before lying flat on my back. My head was rushing. I felt somewhat dissociated. I felt like an alien camera peaking out of a window which was my eyes like my body was a giant building and whatever was seeing through that “window” (i.e. whatever was rendering my visual field) was a creature about a few inches tall. Every breath I took felt laborious and my chest was full of tension. I felt like I was being cornered and tortured by the police and they were calling me selfish (and I felt reduced to a child).
During the peak of the high, I had some very morbid but interesting thoughts and I noticed that my visual field was slightly blurred. When I moved my hand, I saw ghostly trails of my hand (but it was very subtle). I was thinking that had to do with my brain having a distorted sense of time which made my frames per second rate of visual field refreshment slower. Onto the morbid and interesting thoughts…
If it were not for humans having babies, they would have no incentive to care about humans other than themselves. Every baby is an emergency. A baby is fragile, helpless, and very demanding of attention and intensive care. If humans stopped having babies, they would stop wanting to make friends with strangers and they would stop wanting to hang out with friends and family because they would get accustomed to doing the bare minimum to survive and would not want to give up the solitude and self interest which is so luxuriously intoxicating compared to the labor and charades involved in caring for “needy” humans. Perhaps men would not take care of women unless women bared his offspring (because that is how selfish those apes are). This makes me think that humans are not supposed to feel that they can be single and childless without having to be ostracized and, to some extent (depending on the local culture), punished. Now that I am an adult, people think I am obligated to care for my aging parents as payment for them caring for me while I was a child. I also felt that, I was so lonely and lacking interests and activities outside my family of origin that I was like a big kid in comparison to everyone else my age; a baby in an adult’s body who could not help but want to be mothered by other people because I felt so fragile, unapproved of, and needy for basic necessities. I thought about how, at the peak of my high, the shrooms were showing me what I am only dimly aware of in normal consciousness. In normal consciousness, I am more numbed out and focused on living a relatively normal human life with relatively normal human concerns. While high on shrooms, my consciousness “dilates” and I realize that there is constant panic and dread occurring in my experience. In particular, I felt like an alien in a human’s body. I thought about how, in order for things like me to exist, there is constant tension between conflicting desires. For instance, I thought about how I was engineered to make other humans want to pay attention to me by looking attractive and cute and, now that I am a seasoned urban camper, intimidating because I have developed some thug-like tendencies. At the same time, being watched intently by other humans for long enough makes me feel uncomfortable (like I cannot rest because I am being interrogated) and I feel like hiding (but if I hide for too long, humans will forget I exist and will hence not want to invest in my welfare (because humans generally do not want to deal with strangers unless those strangers are sufficiently attractive and non-burdensome)). Humans seem to have a lot more compassion for babies than they do for adults.
That italicized blurb above is my attempt to summarize some of the most depressing thoughts which have been on my mind recently (and perhaps for most of my life). What made me feel better was logging onto Twitter and seeing some of my favorite Twitter users posting thought-provoking and compassionate tweets which was like a balm for the soreness I have been feeling emotionally. (See the screenshots below).
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