LSD 101: Walking The Wild

Suggested Audio Candy ♫


[Path No.1] The Sandman “Psychosis Part 1”



[Path No.2] Hyper on Experience “Assention (To The 9th Level)”


What do you say we just get straight down to business shall we? Here, I’ll go first. You want to know what the wild side truly feels like to walk upon? Well then please afford little old me a college try at elucidating. Okay so imagine that every last plane of reality is an orb, running symmetrically with a string of identical orbs, much like a row of rowdy burlesque dancers, each flashing its innermost wares for an ever-more excitable audience. It’s every last kaleidoscopic imagining conceivable and the precise same number inconceivable, to the power of a number a good two dozen past infinite. That is to say that it is akin to climbing inside the universe’s most exotic space melon and being gently serenaded while it strokes our hair reassuringly (but with a vague hint of disgust). I’d love to sit here and spout off about all the places I’ve been and sights I’ve seen (and really should catch up on my breathers after that last load of drivel), but it would seem absolutely obscene given my freshness to the scene. I’m just an iddy-biddy ickle wickle wurzel squirt in the greater scheme of things and who the bloody hell is responsible for said schematics anyhoots? Whoever it is needs stringing up by their limbic glands while the ancient gods strip them of their regality and send them crashing into the pits everyone generally makes a B-line to avoid.

Are you still following? And if not then who’s the shady looking Herbert hanging over by the service entrance and how do I access his pin code? The bastard’s no doubt sitting on an intellectual goldmine, and with the late great Larry Hagman as my darned tooting cotton-picking witness, “I think we just gone struck ourselves a doozy fellas”. Who gives a frisbee-themed fuck if it all ends up being an elaborate dream so long as bells and whistles are provided. Right now I’m aboard a positively inhuman centipede and it’s on an express route straight to somewhere I’m barely qualified to even rasp of. Unless I’m mistaken and my spirits soundly shaken, I haven’t the faintest clue where the hell I’m vacating or what sin-tinged pleasures I’m forsaking by all this pointless mind raking. So do I sit here ruminating? Dare I say…procrastinating? (hold it just a couple of seconds longer then whammo). No I bloody well don’t and you should be ashamed of yourselves for even hinting at such as I’m far too dignified to entertain such wiffle.

Sense that sickly sweet irony, as if there’s one thing I don’t currently have in my possession (other than a fleece fashioned exclusively from squirrel hives) then it would be the faintest fucking inkle dinkle what I’m even writing at this present moment in time. You see, if I seal my eyes for a solitary nanosecond, then they’ll get me! just like it said on the packet. Buggers always do. You think you’ve given them the slip, then blammo! it’s “what the devil were you up to in Miss Coolidge’s petticoat late that summer evening?” and straight back into the melting pot with all the other residual gloop until some jobsworth plum does a stock take and figures out we’re all being shafted. If I’m to be made an example of, not to mention be considered nonsensical, then would it not make a lick of sense to varnish my trumpet? I mean, I’m committed now ain’t I? You don’t lick the lizard without learning how the lizard likes to be licked am I right or is that a different game show entirely? The misfortunate wheel need not define me, I can make a gibbon of myself without any roadside assistance thank you very much. Just be sure to save me a stray acorn as I’ve always been rather partial.

I wonder if there’s a name for what I’ve got? I’d hope they’d come up with something groundbreaking like “the disease of the afflicted” or something similarly chronic and iconic. After all, I’m endeavoring to build an empire on these candy-coated foundations and it only seems right that someone tugs my tail feathers. Call me sick and I promise I’ll call you straight back after this short and enthusiastic message from tonight’s sponsor. I’M A MENTALIST. PLEASE GOD SOMEBODY HELP ME. 😘 Are these the blatherings of a man in full compliance with his screwballs? Whaddya reckon guys? One more nut in the bag? The emoji sealed it huh? Well I guess it couldn’t hurt while we’re all in a huddle could it? If I give my solemn vow not to slip a sly digit in the old trash compactor while your back’s turned like some greasy strangler, then there’s no bona fide reason that would stand up in a court of sanity why we shouldn’t all just get along now is there? And don’t think I won’t notice you unclench and release as I once missed a trick and caught up with it the very next day thanks to Vevo. We’re all in this together, like it or lump it, seems a waste just to dump it. I’ll leave that for some other goose-brained strumpet as I could do without the blind comfort.

At any rate, whatever happened to there being a trained professional available at all times and all that spoon-fed shenanigans? I know my rights every bit as well as I do every last one of my goddamn wrongs so how do you feel about cutting to the chase before it gets away from us again? Give it an inch to pinch and it’ll pilfer a pound before you know what hit you so let’s all save ourselves the aggro and call a beaver a beaver shall we? And don’t even think of telling me it’s an otter on an off-day as I’ve done all my homework. Actually, perhaps I overdid it with the extracurricular activities but that’s no more here than it is there and where that might be I haven’t the teensiest of inklings. Good lord, must I think of everything here? At some point, the scaffolding is going to get shaky and then we’re in big trouble. The last thing we need are the bailiffs sniffing around at this ungodly hour in their eternal quest for sole ownership. Commie bastards never know when to quit. It’s funny when you think of it as I’m pretty much in the same boat all things considered. Sure I can weave some provocative prose, but does that make my voice any more sultry than the next fishwife in line?

Now look, the last thing I wish to do right now is take us all on a dud trip, believe you me, when the pent-up superhero within me is so raging to burst. And perhaps that is the clarity I am seeking right there. With the entire world around me crashing to an unexpected halt, a moment or two in realization is all that it takes. I’m killing myself, whether softly or rough-handedly matters not, as I have a duty to keep keeping on as I always pledged that I would. Life has given me such wondrous gifts, and regardless of how whacked out this current voyage may have been, I’m truly blessed to have basked beneath such glorious rays. My imagination is boundless, I’m guessing that couldn’t be much more crystallized than at present, but nothing that illegal highs could ever buy could hold a candle up to creating a life and watching it grow. Now look what you’ve gone and done, you’ve got me all sentimental and teary-eyed. Pack it in will you, I didn’t pack the appropriate audio for the kind of expedition you’re proposing. So whaddya reckon? How does a good old-fashioned truce grab you? Those comedowns ain’t gonna wait around forever you know. Catch you on the return trip fellow space cadets and perhaps next time I’ll watch on from the sidelines. Besides, how much honesty is too much?


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    1. That one was a bit mental. Wrote it six months ago after expanding my mind one time for old time’s sake. It’s a heavy deal but good at making you see the world more clearly, just for a moment. Definitely wouldn’t recommend it to anyone though. They say you’re a little crazy from the first time you drop and I’m just glad I have a channel for my brand of bonkers. Otherwise, I’d be rocking back and forth in a padded cell, drooling I reckon. Thanks for reading, it means so much.

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