I did MDMA last night and then this morning when I was leaving my friends apartment I did some more and then got a joint and walked around and thought for like 2 hours? It’s so beautiful outside. It’s a nice day for processing, for calming the nervous system, for reconnecting with the self. MDMA has made me so ruthless in finding beauty, I think there’s something about the way it recalls the energy of it in my body.
I miss the pandemic, it was a such a good time for me. Everything seemed so soft and then the federal agent happened, and it was downhill from there. I feel like I’ve been free falling since he walked into my life, but along the way down I reach for the side of the cliff and pull myself upwards. I like being able to do that. Every time I make contact with inner peace, it makes me feel like this is a permanent energy, not something that disappears and reappears.
I remember watching one of my tarot readers and he goes “oh, life is suffering” as he started arranging cards on the table. I hated that when I heard it. I hated it so much. Life was too complex, it had too many flavors for suffering to be the only one of them. I think I’ve overpaid my debts to suffering too. I don’t want anymore, I’ve drank enough from that hose to last me a lifetime. I don’t want to opt for that worldview, for that energy.
It takes strength and conviction to believe in the possibility of beauty and it requires accepting the fact that life will hand us setbacks and losses. But being in pursuit of beauty tastes sweeter than the ease of giving up. I hate the idea of giving up, it feels like such a slovenly way to live.
a soft death 