Let’s go forward in time through the government’s ban on psychedelics, the cauterizing effect of prohibition on psychedelic research, and into its tentative re-ignition, exploring how this has blossomed into the psychedelic renaissance.
I hypnotized some of the attendees and put them on cocaine, pot, beer, and even ecstasy. I interviewed them afterwards and asked them if it felt real. And each of them said yes. Quite real. Then my head exploded.
When the moon is full, secret repositories fill with liquid LSD which drips out of the silver proboscis of a golden butterfly bee sculpture. Each drop contains approx. 20 micrograms, which I ingest in the morning with my coffee.
We passed out the tabs of acid, we toasted, and we dropped. And then suddenly, up we went. I stood up, gingerly putting my weight on my right leg. And...nothing. No pain. No tenderness. I was invincible.
I realized after a few songs that I was more into the music than I normally was. But then, the song “Let It Happen” by Tame Impala came on as if there was a switch inside my brain where the drug started working.
The LSD rushed through my gums and into my jaw at the same time the bitter drip of MDA slowly ran down the back of my throat. I didn’t exactly understand what was happening nor did I care because I was excited.
Fifteen years ago at the age of 15, I attended a house party where I was traumatically gang raped. At the time I was also a virgin. I was so ashamed, humiliated, and terrified that I never spoke about it again. Until recently.