I feel like the description of this tripping man's behavior (stolen from Shannon Larrat's ModBlog) is a perfect metaphor for my own behavior, choices, and desperation in life. I think it's beautiful.
..."the story begins in a park just south of St. Clair and Bathurst, with both of our friends on single hits of acid. We assumed it would just be a pleasant night, but they almost immediately went off in the wrong direction mentally. One took off and I don't know his story. The other one, who this story focuses on, started becoming convinced that he didn't have a good enough connection with God.
So he's standing in the park in the early evening, shouting up at the sky, begging God to accept him. God didn't answer of course, much to his distress. But he has an epiphany _ God doesn't want to talk to him because he has become too obsessed with the materialism of our physical world. The only possessions he has with him are his clothes, so he strips down naked and again calls out to God _ no response! "Why have you forsaken me?"
He calms himself down and thinks about why God isn't answering. Perhaps it's because he hasn't been a good person? After all, you have to be a good person to get to heaven, he figures. So he goes out onto Bathurst Street, still completely nude, and begins running toward the downtown core. People avoid him _ obviously _ but this only helps fuel his paranoia that he's a bad person.
Eventually his feelings of guilt completely overwhelm him and he starts going up to houses, trying to open the doors so he can express his love for the people inside, hoping to convince God he's a good person worthy of heaven after all. Eventually he finds an unlocked house and runs inside, pouncing on the first person he sees, wrapping his naked body around them and telling them he loves them. As I'm sure is no surprise, he's thrown to the ground, and to his horror, the man grabs a baseball bat and begins pulverizing him.
Realizing that he's stumbled upon the home of a demon, not a human, he runs back out onto Bathurst to search for people to express love to. Of course the guy in the house, presumably not actually a demon, calls the police. Anyway, my friend doesn't just run out of the house and onto the sidewalk, but straight into traffic where he is hit by several cars. So now he's deranged, naked, and covered in blood, and still looking for love.
He actualy begins opening car doors as traffic moves on, trying to hug the drivers and passengers and express to them what a good person he really is, completely oblivious as to why they all appear to be totally horrified and terrified of him"
I guess I understand now why people want to do acid. I guess there's a chance that the drug will strip you of the hall of mirrors that is your perception of yourself and "show you who you really are". Like the Southern Oracle, you know? I've been thinking a lot lately about how people who consider themselves without religion will seek out experiences of ritual, experiences meant to mark or bring about a transition in their point of view. I guess Grad school is my acid. But the graduate trip is a guaranteed bummer and it lasts waaaaaaaaaay too long.
Dear people who write "OMG. Ever hear of the search function?!",
Yes. Yes we can use the search function, and I say "we" because I believe I speak for quite a few of us who start new topics here at SG. I don't care what Al said about butthole piercing 3 years ago. I want to know what people who are posting right now think of it. That's the beauty (and POINT) of message-boards on the internet. If I wanted to spend three hours looking stuff up about butthole debates for the past 1/2 decade, I'd go to a library. Pointing out that there have been other conversations about buttholes on SG does not give you OLDSKOOL cred, it makes you look like you don't understand this novelty called the intarweb.
And a-fucking-nother thing. Don't even try to pretend that you aren't the VERY SAME PEOPLE who complain bitchily when someone "brings up an old thread".
I could go on.
Fuckers.
Love,
Ax
..."the story begins in a park just south of St. Clair and Bathurst, with both of our friends on single hits of acid. We assumed it would just be a pleasant night, but they almost immediately went off in the wrong direction mentally. One took off and I don't know his story. The other one, who this story focuses on, started becoming convinced that he didn't have a good enough connection with God.
So he's standing in the park in the early evening, shouting up at the sky, begging God to accept him. God didn't answer of course, much to his distress. But he has an epiphany _ God doesn't want to talk to him because he has become too obsessed with the materialism of our physical world. The only possessions he has with him are his clothes, so he strips down naked and again calls out to God _ no response! "Why have you forsaken me?"
He calms himself down and thinks about why God isn't answering. Perhaps it's because he hasn't been a good person? After all, you have to be a good person to get to heaven, he figures. So he goes out onto Bathurst Street, still completely nude, and begins running toward the downtown core. People avoid him _ obviously _ but this only helps fuel his paranoia that he's a bad person.
Eventually his feelings of guilt completely overwhelm him and he starts going up to houses, trying to open the doors so he can express his love for the people inside, hoping to convince God he's a good person worthy of heaven after all. Eventually he finds an unlocked house and runs inside, pouncing on the first person he sees, wrapping his naked body around them and telling them he loves them. As I'm sure is no surprise, he's thrown to the ground, and to his horror, the man grabs a baseball bat and begins pulverizing him.
Realizing that he's stumbled upon the home of a demon, not a human, he runs back out onto Bathurst to search for people to express love to. Of course the guy in the house, presumably not actually a demon, calls the police. Anyway, my friend doesn't just run out of the house and onto the sidewalk, but straight into traffic where he is hit by several cars. So now he's deranged, naked, and covered in blood, and still looking for love.
He actualy begins opening car doors as traffic moves on, trying to hug the drivers and passengers and express to them what a good person he really is, completely oblivious as to why they all appear to be totally horrified and terrified of him"
I guess I understand now why people want to do acid. I guess there's a chance that the drug will strip you of the hall of mirrors that is your perception of yourself and "show you who you really are". Like the Southern Oracle, you know? I've been thinking a lot lately about how people who consider themselves without religion will seek out experiences of ritual, experiences meant to mark or bring about a transition in their point of view. I guess Grad school is my acid. But the graduate trip is a guaranteed bummer and it lasts waaaaaaaaaay too long.
Dear people who write "OMG. Ever hear of the search function?!",
Yes. Yes we can use the search function, and I say "we" because I believe I speak for quite a few of us who start new topics here at SG. I don't care what Al said about butthole piercing 3 years ago. I want to know what people who are posting right now think of it. That's the beauty (and POINT) of message-boards on the internet. If I wanted to spend three hours looking stuff up about butthole debates for the past 1/2 decade, I'd go to a library. Pointing out that there have been other conversations about buttholes on SG does not give you OLDSKOOL cred, it makes you look like you don't understand this novelty called the intarweb.
And a-fucking-nother thing. Don't even try to pretend that you aren't the VERY SAME PEOPLE who complain bitchily when someone "brings up an old thread".
I could go on.
Fuckers.
Love,
Ax
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
kitschy:
Hey,...... Come back, already!
dannydmc:
Where ye be?