Read this the other day

Read an excerpt from a diary of some unknownon the internet the other day...

"So there was this situation where after discussing with a friend the merits of LSD they agreed that the fun, or interest in the hallucinagen waned once you managed to learn how to think on acid. It's not something that would conscienciously happen - it was just that as the brain got used to tripping it would manage to form the standard logical links in the brain that acid had so much fun mingling with - as if the brain learned the sleight of hand, learned the jokes and didnt find them funny any more. This happened after about a year of regular use, but it didnt mean his aspirations were shot... "I was determined that I would break through and manage to reach that 'other side' that I would be able to taste and touch and speak and sense utter loss- utter oblivion, where reality was unanimously engulfed in lysergic myth, unreality where logic, sense, familiarity, reality were all abolished in the swell of glorious abandon..." yet the quality of the acid that they were buying at the Pub was perhaps limited- indeed maybe the method of application (shop bought tabs at £5 a pop) would not sufficient for these purposes, irrespective of the cumulative quantities used.... He had already learned that consecutive dropping was useless- taking one at 8, one at 9, one at 10 was as bad as just taking one at 8 (more or less, as far as breaking through and understanding the daffoldils was concerned*)

* Ill explain in a bit

so tripple or quad dropping was required... or indeed keeping an ear out at the sussex for what might be the next big thing... purple stars, red dragons, purple dice.... these names took on mythical proportions as life seemed to suddenly revolve around just two things- GCSE's and acid...

One night at a party He came as close as he could remember to that hallowed ground of the other side... "I remember finding myself in the garden (well to be honest someone else found me in the garden...after looking for me for a few hours...). I was stooped over the flower beds, the daffs were in full bloom. When my friend pulled me inside, (much to my distress) they had to convince me that I could no longer stay in the garden as it was too cold and I may freeze... I protested so severely because (as I was later informed) "I was so close to understanding what they were saying- I could almost make out the words- they were speaking to me, and I knew what they were saying- but they were just out of audible range - {this may have explained the close proximity of my head to the petals and soil as my friend found me} - but however hard I tried I just could not hear them...."

He tried on several other occasions to understand them, he tried upping the dossage, tried intensifying the dose or the method of ingestion, but nothing worked. He found a new master- a new voice to tune into- it was a small "pet rock" that someone had at their house where we used to trip regularly... but the problem was the same. "Every time I got close, it seemed that the voice just became that little bit imperceptibly quieter... just tantalizingly out of range. A bit like when you look at the night sky, you see stars everywhere, then when you focus on a dull or remote star you cant see it- you can only see it in your peripheral vision..."

Not long after this he gave up. He had lasted much longer than any of my contemporaries in my quest for 'understanding'- wait- not understanding but just 'hearing' what was being said to him- but even he had to give up in the face of stiff competition from other drugs."

I include this story as a post only because it somehow shows a striking similarity with the creative challenges of my surrent situation, in as much as a search for the intangible or inaudible...