Transcendental Medication (Act III)

 

From Act II
< She was very attractive with piercing hazel green eyes and long straight black hair tied up neatly in a swinging ponytail but allowing perfectly cut bangs to cover her forehead. Her eyes were as stunning as a Montana sky and just as vast. Butterflies had left my stomach and created a chrysalis caravan traveling through my digestive tract straight towards my reproductive organs. It was complicated even more profoundly by her sensual and suggestive tone echoing through my soul. Maybe she wasn’t even there to begin with, the line that separated reality from non-reality had become wafer thin.>

<Nothing is the absence of anything. Anything is something so nothing must be something if its anything>

 

 

III Begin At The Beginning
J.T. Hilltop

When I got home from The Holistic Center still feeling sluggish from the hallucination induced medicated acupuncture needles the first thing I did was pour myself a big glass of wine. A very big glass of wine. I needed to process what just happened today and decide if it was wise to go back. The more I thought about the nurse I was with the more I feared it was all in my head. Was I imagining some pornographic manifestation of a dominatrix nurse? A scene from “Romancing The Bone” or some such weird porno movie in the hopes of some spiritual sexcapade while under acupuncture meditation? Was it just a wet daydream? Maybe I’m hoping for a close encounter of the supernatural sexual kind. Everything about it seemed so very real and she seemed to know me intimately. Besides I need to know what the hell this everything is nothing bullshit was all about and how far I would be taking this so I’m definitely going. Then again what if I go back to the opposite universe and its Dr. Kha that ties me up and toys with my pleasure zones. Erotic adventures involving Dr. Kha’s thermometer probes and patient doctor confidentiality. Then again if it is the nurse she was so hot and so sexy my libido did triple somersaults with a full twist and was hoping to stick a landing. I would have made a contract with the devil himself for an evening of exploration with her but who and what can I trust? Doctor Kha said equal and opposite! I’m not even sure if she was a manifestation of my inner desires or if that sweet temptress really exists. She seemed like eve thing but maybe its nothing. So fucking confused!
I near guzzled the first large glass of wine and as I poured a second I glanced at the calendar. My eyes went directly to two days from now, Friday the 27th. Twenty seven is a good number as numbers go. Two is balance and union and seven is a very spiritual number in nearly every religion. Together they add up to nine which is the highest level of changes. Hmmm, union, balance, and change! I looked away closing my eyes as if to think about it but I knew my mind was made up. I mean a night of deep philosophic discovery contemplating the secrets of science followed by a fantasy involving wild abandoned sex, what’s not to like. Secrets of science? OMFG, have I become a nerd? Maybe so, but when I wake up Saturday morning I will be one happy and satisfied nerd. I glanced dreamily back at the calendar but all I saw were those beautiful hazel eyes filled with longing and promise. Friday it is!

Of course Friday couldn’t possibly have dragged on longer if it were fitted with friction bars. From the moment I woke up all the way through the day all I could think of was my dominatrix nurse. I made four errors on my lunch orders at the restaurant which is four more than usual, and my head just wasn’t in it at all. But the shift finally limped slowly to an end and I flew home to prepare for my journey. Nothing was on my mind. That is to say the everything sort of nothing. Oh yea, sex was on my mind as well. Maybe nothing but sex but I was very excited on so many levels. After the longest shower in history I did my best to look my best and it certainly wasn’t for nothing, at least I was hoping it wasn‘t.
When I arrived no one seemed as excited as I was, acting as if this were just another mundane visit. Maybe it was for them but I came here to be enlightened and turned on like never before. Dr. Kha led me back to my cot, my waiting room to experience nothing, and began inserting his medicated needles. “Hmmm, I feel much tension JT, I think I need put more puncture in foot today. Not want you running away, eh?” Kha chuckled as if it were some inside joke but I barely heard him at this point. He knew something was up, or rather that nothing was up, or was going to be up but lest‘s not go there. “Just really looking forward to what’s in store Dr. Kha, to pick up exactly where I left off the other day.” My smile must have been huge. “I see. Remember JT, every session new session. Like snowflake nothing ever exact.” I turned to look at him but he was already gone. I thought about a line from The Wizard of Oz and laughed, “My, people come and go so quickly here”, then I laid back to meditate while thinking of other Oz quotes. “Some people without brains do an awful lot of thinking, a heart is not judged by how much you love but by how much you are loved by others, you’re confusing courage with wisdom my friend.” I entered my zone, incense and music comforting me, a soothing sitar solo and I was transported again.
“Dr. Kha?” I pushed my way past the smoky curtain of dimensions. “Very clever JT, using Wizard of Oz. You think other dimension same as Oz for Dorothy? Maybe you same than Dorothy.” I could feel a strong burst of air pushing me back towards the smoke curtain and had to fight it off. “You gotta admit there are similarities Kha, I know I’m not in Kansas anymore.” The air kept me at bay. “True, no Kansas JT, but no Oz either. If you want learn about nothing you need to enter completely.” I fought off the air blast, “I can’t seem to get any further this air current is keeping me away.” Kha smiled, “No air current JT, is nothing. Nothing is what keep you from moving forward. If you want to understand everything you must first conquer nothing.” Conquer nothing? What the hell is he talking about? I concentrated hard and the wind stopped. I could see my nurse off in the distance, on the other side of a pond or something. She caught my eye and smiled. I looked back at her and then at Kha.
What you see is desire JT, but before you receive reward of what you desire lesson must be understood. You are in paradox JT, time and space much different than what you know. In this dimension Schrödinger’s cat exist and not exist” I shook my head full of doubt, “Are you saying we are in a box Kha?” He laughed loudly, “Box? No JT, here no box, but here always need think out of box. No use logic, use sensory instincts. Let feelings guide you.” I glanced back over the pond but no nurse. “So am I really here or am I still laying on the mattress?” Kha smiled, “I sorry JT, cannot answer. Anyway wrong question. What you should ask is when are you here and when are you on mattress. First to understand time you need let go of perception. You measure time in linear progressions, seconds, minutes, hours. But time constant and wobbly, no straight. You have already existed and already ceased to exist, time not wait on you. Your life is how you experience time, how you put it in order to understand. But time not linear JT, time flexible.” Kha pulled out a yard of string, “This your life JT. For you it have beginning and end. But time have no beginning, no end, time ownry exist. You see your life from one end of string to other. If I give you string in different pieces you think it useless, just like if I show you your life at 19, then at 5, then at 30. Not make sense because out of order yet it all happen. That ownry way you can see time, moving straight and forward every second. If you want see time as time truly is need more than acupuncture and meditation. For special people I give special transcendental medication. Combine acupuncture with special medication to help you understand. I believe you ready but it up to you JT.” He paused looking at me as if I needed time to consider, but he must have known if my life has already been that I was going to go for it. “Dr. Kha, I want to understand. It would be my honor and a privilege to undergo transcendental medication.” I gave him a sly smile, “When did I start?” I looked at him hoping he got my joke and saw he was smiling. “Very good JT, I see I have chosen you wisely. I leave now but I back to arrange session.” He pointed across the water to where my fantasy had been waiting, “Meantime, I recommend you take rowboat across pond.”
Right there in front of me was a small dinghy with oars. I jumped in and rowed like a maniacal teen about to lose his virginity towards whatever waited for me across the pond. When I got there the other side it was even more amazing than I thought possible. It was like an island paradise, brimming with plants, trees, and flowers of all colors. It smelled clean and new, lilac and fresh cut grass with a sense of serenity. I followed a path taking in the sheer beauty around me. Flowers with their genitals boldly hanging out on display for all to see, giving off intoxicating scents to tickle the minds of men. With every breath I felt desire building up inside me awaiting release. Then I saw her.
Not a nurse, not a dominatrix, not even an exotic island native woman, but that gorgeous hazel eyed enticing beautiful woman from my first visit dressed as if for a date “I’m so glad you chose to come back JT, I am Ambrosina. I’ve been waiting for you. Come here.”
To Be Continued

 

Barrel Ride And A Butterfly (by JT Hilltop)

failure When it came to being irresponsible I was the king of never again. I just could never say no. If anyone dared me to guzzle 151 Rum I would give it my best shot until my throat and stomach were on fire forcing some of that near pure disgusting alcohol out my nose singing the nasal cilia hairs. I might be upchucking for the rest of the evening and consider stomach pumping because it bordered on alcohol poisoning but I‘d try it. You say did three Quaalude’s? I’ll do four. You took four oxy’s washed down with beer? I’ll do six and a bottle of vodka. “Yo JT, I bet I could do three hits of this barrel acid.” Big deal bro, I can name that trip in five barrel hits. That’s not exactly the way it went down but I did end up taking five barrel hits of LSD one night. Just chalk it up as another never again moment. I’ve had way too many of those moments with my head spinning and my stomach threatening to throw up my pancreas along with the chef salad of pharmaceuticals and liquors I consumed. Well at least this time I’m saying never again not because I’m puking up my internal organs but because I am over hallucinating after ingesting five count em five hits of Barrel Acid. WTF was I thinking? One is sufficient for your basic economy no frills trip but two will take you on a full color visually enhanced upscale acid journey. Taking three hits is unusual and far above the daily recommended allowance which can bring one dangerously close to going over edge of sanity to never return. But three barrel hits of LSD is not unheard of. Five?! That’s just fucking insane man, bordering on suicide of the mental capacities. Something that even the most seasoned tripper stacked to the brim with frequent flying miles wouldn’t do on purpose. But there I was going over Niagara falls in five barrels of insanity.
In my defense it wasn’t the usual idiotic dare that led me there it was a desperate attempt to conceal the fact from my Mom that I was in possession of LSD to begin with. What was idiotic was to lay all five hits on my desk. I was alone in my room, my normally parent-free sanctuary, and I had laid this weekends recreationals for me and my two best friends on my desk to admire. Five cute looking hallucination inducing barrels. Five barrels of fun. Two hits for me, two for Ray-Ray, and one for Bobby who did everything conservatively because he got high way too easy. I copped them from the big “Drug Dealer” in school and we would all trip this Saturday. The best laid plans turned asunder because my mother broke the cardinal rule of parenting and walked in my room unannounced. Before even weighing any options all five hits made a desperate sprint into my mouth. The very second my Mom asked me if my brother Jack was doing drugs I swallowed. “Wait, what? Jack doing drugs? No way Mom, why would you say that?” My mom held out a packet of EZ Wider rolling papers, “I found this in his dungaree’s while doing the wash.” Oh oh, Jack is busted but maybe I can save my older brother, Lord knows he’s saved my ass a number of times. “No Mom, no way, he smokes cigarettes and buys this rolling tobacco called Bugler.” Better he gets caught for cigs than weed, only thing is I need to remember to tell him before he see’s Mom. “Well, I hope so. You don’t smoke that Bugler stuff do you?” Bullet dodged, the lie came too easy off my lips, “Of course not Mom, no please, I have to do my homework.”
I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself, thinking so quick and coming up with that Bugler tobacco lie and….Oh shit! I just ate five hits of barrel acid. That’s when panic filled the room like a mountain fog. The thought hit me over and over. I’m about to go on the trip of a lifetime and I may never return. I called Ray-Ray and Bobby and they both acted like they were talking to me for the last time but I promised I would give them a full report if I’m still alive and sane tomorrow. Nothing I could do but wait it out and listen to the travel advisory’s in my head.
An hour passed in slo-motion until the cid began to kick in. What to do? May as well make this trip as hippie-worthy as possible and try to enjoy it. First things first, I lit some patchouli incense and turned on my blacklight to make my psychedelic posters burst with colors and movement. I pranced over to my cheap ass stereo to choose an album for listening pleasure Being in a Jimi mood I put on Bold As Love, side A. It starts off with a funny UFO spoof then quickly kicks into a typical Jimi Hendrix guitar explosion. The album was awesome and a premium tripping audio assault. I laid back on my bed and began seeing some very strange visions. The ceiling was normally a white blank but because of the LSD I perceived it to be full of images most of which were moving like a film strips. Popeye strangling Brutus, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote running in circles like a dog chasing its tail, and that sort of thing. High def bright and very colorful hallucinations that feigned reality to my numbing brain. I had to keep reminding myself that they weren’t real. Then I focused on one in particular of Wimpy humping Olive Oyl. The back stabbing hamburger eating freak was pumping away to the music. Popeye, Brutus, and an array of cartoon character I don’t even remember were all watching and cheering them on. Olive was panting and moaning her skinny and boney legs way up in the air, and Wimpy had lost some weight and was unbelievably in time with the music thrusting along with the chords. In the middle of pounding Olive Wimpy pulls out a trail of hamburgers and begins eating which made me laugh. Uncontrollably! Other characters were clapping, Olive was screaming “Ohhhh Popppppeye!!!“ and Wimpy kept saying “I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a good fucking today” still pumping away as Olive squealed. I laughed out loud until I realized something strange. Not that the scene wasn’t already strange enough but this was scary strange. The music Wimpy was humping to was not the album I put on. As a matter of fact it was music I’d never heard of before filled with really weird electronic sounds. When I jumped up the hallucinations disappeared of the ceiling and my stereo began laughing at me. I made a mad dash across the room to investigate. The album was over and I had no clue how long ago it ended. I was audio-hallucinating which for me was new.
I shook my head trying to get straight and flip the album over. I was standing yet I couldn’t feel my legs, they felt like long pillows. Using all my resources I attempted to reassure myself, “Its just a trip JT, you’re tripping and everything’s okay. Only a trip, it’s the acid, none of this is real.” Feeling only slightly convinced my pillows walked me back to my bed. By the time I finally figured out how to lay down someone had stopped the album. When I looked over it started again then happened once more. I was certain my asshole brother had come home, knew I was tripping and thought it would be funny to goof on me by plugging and unplugging the player. Hey cut it out man, that’s not funny!” No response. I looked around. No sign of Jack, no one anywhere, but the music was now playing normal. I turned to get back to my bed when one of my posters, an American Indian chief with tie dye colors all around him began moving. His eyes narrowed as he glared at me breathing hard and flexing his muscles. Chief Crazy Brave was holding up a tomahawk in what I felt was a threatening manor. “Holy fuck! This isn’t fucking real man, it can’t be.”
The full force of the five hits of acid were attacking me now. I closed my eyes tight but someone or something kept popping them back open. The Indian chief climbed out of the poster as the walls began breathing. In and out they were breathing like a wave at a sports arena making eerie wind noises. I reminded myself I was tripping so I wouldn’t flip out but I had to do something, needed to get away from the breathing wall, errant stereo, and wherever he was hiding the tomahawk wielding Indian chief. I needed to get out of my room but could’t possibly risk running into Mom or Dad so my only alternative option was to regroup in the bathroom.
So I retreated to the bathroom hoping those walls hadn’t begun breathing yet. One of the odd things about tripping is it intensifies every feeling you have. If you have sex its like the first and best you ever had, if its hearing music the sounds pull at your soul and make it dance, and if its laughing it’s the funniest possible thing you could ever imagine. Even mundane things like taking a pee take on a whole new aura, it can even feel better than that life relieving pee you take during a long road trip in between rest tops. To be honest I don’t think I even thought about it but since I had arrived in the bathroom I just naturally started to pee. It had an oddly reassuring quality to it, helped me to forget the walls, the Indian chief, and the tomahawk. But there is another oddity when tripping and one thing we are always warned about is staring at ourselves for too long. When you see an image of yourself on psychotropic it often appears distorted so you need to focus and look away before you begin to freak out thinking its how you really look. As I turned from the toilet bowl I was confronted with a full length mirror that had a most frightening and imposing figure staring. Me!
Everything seemed to come to a halt, even time itself. I was staring at a foreboding image of myself painted like a warrior of some sort complete with a bizarre war paint. Split directly down the center of my face and body was a line, on the right side everything yellow except two stripes of dark brown war paint on my forehead angling upwards, a semi circle around my eye, and two more stripes on my cheek in a downward angle. My left side was a dark brown yang to the bright yellow yin. I must say I looked fierce. Fierce enough to take on that tomahawk carrying poster image that was lurking about somewhere. I stared for a few seconds trying to intellectualize the event and put it into perspective but my perspective had hopped on a train out of town and I wasn’t sure it would ever return. The war paint began breathing, or pulsating and changing colors. War paint of dark brown, bright yellow, and dayglo orange were spinning around my face. My cheeks were drooping, my nose twisted and my forehead protruded immensely. I was hideous, a nightmarish looking ghoul that went beyond anything in The Twilight Zone or The Outer Limits. I issued a long slow drawn out “Ohhhh…. My….. God” forcing myself away from the image. Like I was a Piccaso portrait escaping from a Salvador Dali landscape Nothing was real, I had never come close to hallucinating this hard. I trembled and forced myself to head back to my sanctuary feeling like I was stepping on feathered mattresses repeating “its not you it‘s the acid, It‘s just a hallucination. That wasn’t the real you.”
“Shit man, I gotta get a hold of myself here and start enjoying this again. Each step I took required concentration, my eyeballs must have been hanging out of their sockets, my cheeks were melting, and I was walking with Gumby’s legs. When I reached my room I started laughing uncontrollable when I heard someone say “What are you laughing at?” Not able to contain myself I answered in between laughs and breaths, I have no legs, hahaha and my tongue is made of cotton, hahaha.” Still in a fit of laughing I looked around expecting to see my brother Jack but it wasn’t him who answered me.” Well if you think that’s funny just wait until you see reality.” When you’re on a trip like this you don’t need anything to be funny you just find everything funny so I doubled over at the most recent statement. Once recovered I answered, “What do you mean until I see…Wait! What? Who said that? Jack are you goofing on me because this is not the time.” I looked for Jack but nowhere to be found. I surveyed my posters afraid the Indian chief had come alive but no. I looked to my stereo believing maybe the sound was coming from the speakers. “Oh Jesus now I’m hearing hallucinations.” I laid down and tried meditating when a butterfly fluttered in weird patterns in front of my eyes leaving trials of butterfly wings all over the place until it landed on my chest. I stared in confusion when out of nowhere it began to speaking to me. I say speak but it wasn’t actual speaking it was more like it communicated to me. I mean it didn’t actually move its lips to form words and there were no like butterfly sounds coming from it. It communicated directly to me in an unspoken language it called the language of the cosmos. “I am the Monarch of the universe and I have come to take you to worlds not yet even dreamed of, worlds where physics and logic have never existed. I am taking you to world of the Butterfly King.
TBC

Confessions of An Expanded Mind

Because I have frequent flyer miles when it come to mind expanding practices I am often asked to talk to kids about drugs. They want me to tell them how drugs ruin lives and destroy dreams. The truth is I did a lot of drugs over the years and I have seen lives destroyed an dreams shattered because of drug abuse, but its not the drug itself it’s the abuse. Not a very popular thing to say but I never wanted to be an anti-drug ambassador. Many times I enjoyed doing drugs. That’s too vague, I enjoyed smoking pot and hash, I enjoyed a few barbiturates once or twice (no, not a day!) , and some hallucinogens. I learned very quickly that its all about moderation and using common sense. I think it was in a Carlos Castenada book I learned “Never let the drug control you. If you are not in control and the drug is its time to stop immediately.” I still feel very strongly that weed should be legal and it is ridiculously hypocritical of the government to choose for us which form of recreational relaxation is allowed. Of course they allow alcohol for two reasons, one because its such a monumental money maker, an two because the first time they attempted to take it away the population went friggen berserk. But I could ramble on for hours about this subject and quite frankly its an easy argument intellectually, but a losing battle with a government built on the power hunger of the christian right. That’s not my subject either, although I am always up for a good battle with organized religions. No, what I want to focus on today makes me very unpopular with “responsible parents”, but quite the opposite with former, present and future users of hallucinogens.
LSD, peyote, mescaline, magic mushrooms, psilocybin, orange sunshine, blue cheer, barrels, all kinds of different psychedelic drugs. They were used as experiments for mind control by the CIA an other head in ass organizations looking for world dominance. They hoped to control minds and create assassins with plausible deniability for the government. What they got was a set of hippie Guru’s like Timothy Leary, Ken Kesey (author One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nests and leader of the “Merry Pranksters”), and Bear Owsley who manufactured the LSD that turned on nine tenths of San Francisco and ignited a hallucinatory craze. I myself have indulged in the use of these mind benders, and here is my confession.
I was all of 16 the first time I tripped, and it was on the legendary “Purple Owsley”, the acid that was rumored to have been used by the artists at the Monterey Pop Festival. Well Fuckin’ A man, if this shit was good enough for Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, then you bet you’re a the EB was willing to give it a taste. I’ll try just about anything. Twice if I’m not sure I liked it or not. So I dropped the LSD. This shit takes just over an hour to kick in and after only 30 minutes we were complaining that we didn’t feel anything. What a disappointment. About 40 minutes later I aw something from the corner of my eye. Wait, what? I just aw a tree bend over and kiss the ground. My head felt funny, like it wasn’t mine. I thought my cranium had cracked and my grey matter was spilling out to have a look for itself. I was in a cartoon. Now IO began to worry, I mean they drop anvils on your head in those fuckers. But no Wile E. Coyote, or Yosemite Sam, it was cartoonish but not like fake. Maybe more like I was posing in a landscape picture for Salvador Dali. The tree’s and the people were still there, same color, just kind of melty. I noticed that the blades of grass. I mean I NOTICED the blades of grass. I could see the fibourous hair sticking out and I thought, holy shit, I never realized how beautiful they are. Or the tree’s or anything. Everything was just beautiful, full of detail normally unnoticed. Colors were alive and singing. It was visually stunning. I placed my han in front of my face and after a short period more fingers began sprouting until it looked like I had ten fingers. That may not sound unusual, but I was only holding up one hand. The sounds were equally as amazing and I could sense guitar strings vibrating as the music played. I could feel the music inside of me. The whole trip lasted about six hours and I squealed with laughter as I aw funny in everything, I marveled at the incredible sights and sounds that had been there every day, but not really felt. It was amazing, an I knew right away it would not be my last trip.
It wasn’t my last, I took many more trips on various hallucinogens. What I noticed most about the trips was that they showed me how things really are, not just how they appear. That’s also why I wanted to stop. It was getting to a point where I was liking less and less people because the drug revealed the inner persons and many of them I didn’t like. Suddenly I became suspicious of everyone, as if their ulterior motives were showing through. The last straw was the night I id 3 hits of Blue Cheer. I was living at home with my folks and had been grounded on a weekend that promised to be one of the best party weekend of the year. My rebel spirit is what told me to do 3 hits of what a normal person would do only one of. That’ll show em! Well it started out as usual, feeling really happy and digging the music when I got up to use the bathroom. A I turned to leave there was a full length mirror and the sight of myself caught me off guard Around my right eye was two yellow circles of like war paint, and around the right side of my lips outline in black war paint. The left side was the opposite, black around the eyes andd yellow around the lips. I mae the big trippers mistake. I stared at myself. Suddenly I went from Dali to Picasso as my facial features took turns moving around my face. I began to fear that I would stay that way cuz my Mom warned me not to make faces. I got very paranoid, my brother came home and I hid a sandwich I was eating. I still don’t know why I stashed a bologna sandwich but for some reason I believed it contraband. Anyway, after hallucinating images I made up in my head and sweating it out for five hours I decided that was my last trip. Unless of course I’m dying. My son knows that if ever they bring around hospice he should load me up with a little of everything he can get his hands on.
So I won’t advocate drug use but nor will I judge. If you choose to take drugs educate yourself on them as many can be very dangerous, and like Carlo said, never let a drug control you. I don’t trip anymore and I confess I took more than I should have, but truth be told it was a major part of opening up my creative soul and permitting me to be more open minded on everything. The trips allowed me to flourish creating culinary delights, and hopefully drawing on that mind expanding experiences I hope it will allow me to find my creative soul in writing, both a blog, short stories, and The Great American Novel I have vested about 200 pages in so far. I have faith in the youth that they will find their way, making mistakes along the way, and finding their own creative legs. Judging from some of the blogs I’ve read here I have no doubt…Get inspired, stay inspired, and make sure you give your imagination plenty of exercise…………………………PEACE