Shroom Vignettes

I wasn't going to post this but my therapist suggested that writing can be good enough even if it is not about traumatic experience... or poop. So shoutout to her...

 also shoutout to my mother because sometimes you raise children who grow up and do drugs. I wrote the following piece mostly while on a shroom trip at my one of my favorite parks. Also if you’ve been consuming a lot of trauma porn and want a break see: Little Weirds by Jenny Slate

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(in a sing song voice and to the tune of "little einsteins theme song") 

We're going on a trip in a little mushrooms ship  

Head floating through the skies, little Einstein's

Feet on the ground, yet there's so much to explore

Marching through the trees, see the light change

The world is looking brighter, all the trees dance. 

5.

4. 

3. 

2. 

1. 

And I am trying to write

BUT I CAN SEE MY CHEEKS!

how can I do anything 

With the wind this loud 

when the paper on which I write

Is hued purples and blues 

And there is so much glistening

To feel brilliant and dumb all at once

the insanity of trying to hold a pen while my brain turns to mush.

 2. 

From my place here by the water's edge 

I can feel the sound of the tide coming to and fro' 

the wind 

in my spine 

so loud

all of me is vibration and note

3.

Patterns sprout and bloom across my pixelated body

draped tenderly atop 

A driftwood log

everything is alive

and I am here and not here 

floating in and out of consciousness 

resting in the middle places 

listening to whispers

blown away 

reaching backward and forward through time.

4. 

Oh, to be a whole body singing

all is music and movement 

pleasure in slow motion

5. (in a voice that moans)

look at that tree

How regal it sits 

Leaves dance and sway

Just so. Just so.

6. 

I just looked at my phone and 

Oh dear... 

so many emails. 

So odd that a device so strange and small

Could be louder than 

The tide. My spine. 

  

7. *(insert extended silence or the sound of crickets). 

For a moment there 

I was gone-or I was right here 

Pressed down/clinging/hiding/holding tight/knuckles clenched 

Don't look- did look down

At this here 

Piece of driftwood. 

For a moment there I wanted to run 

But could not

Don't look- did look down 

At the too loud

Tall  grass 

Buzzing bees 

Pollinating- reverbating 

8. 

Living on this planet is a chaos

I do- don't want to escape from 

And everything is happening 

everywhere all at once

9.

There are so many  people here

On this beach 

So many different ways to be here 

Eight billion micro stories 

An infinity really

Happening live.  

10.

Maybe I just want to be here.

Pressed down/ clinging/ hiding/ holding/ breathing

By the waters edge