A Conversation With God

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Last night went a lot better. Thanks to the relief that the prednisone gave me, along with a couple of other prescription drugs I entered a deep sleep with some comical dreams that seemed too good to be true. I don't know if I decided to ignore that the entertainment was too good to be true in order for me to go lucid and take control of those dreams or not, I certainly knew I was dreaming in real time, but these dreams were so much more pleasant than the dreams I've been having in the recent past I was happy to leave them as they were.

Part of why I feel better today is that I expected to. I knew what prednisone can do for the deep aching in my bones and joints. If I take enough of it all the pain will go away and I'll turn into an obnoxious cock-of-the-walk that reveals my true colours. Note that I didn't write true colors. For the most part I know how to spell. I've won spelling bees before. Granted, I may not be the best there is at spelling words, but I always know if I'm deliberately misspelling a woid.

I don't wanna trust feeling better today. It won't last but until I run outta prednisone, and I don't have that much stashed away. The high I get from prednisone is probably as good as I'll feel for the rest of my life. I doubt that I'll even look much like a human being when my ti-me comes. I can't imagine anybody not taking it personal when their body starts malfunctioning.

Especially beautiful women who have depended on their attractiveness to get what they could from life. I think it may be better toward the end to have not been so beautiful and to have so much to lose when you begin to look like shit warmed over.

Having not been a woman in this particular lifetime takes away from my being so certain I understand what women go through during an entire life cycle, much less the various parts and phases of their overall life. It may be easier for them to learn to express their emotional and nurturing parts by playing with dolls and pretending to be a mother while they're still a child. I never hung around long enough to find out.

For me life was a quest. A quest as in the first five letters in the term "question". I told myself I was trying to answer the great questions of life when I didn't know what the great questions of life actually were. So, quite naturally, I made them up. The great questions of life I've tried to answer are the questions I made up myself. Is that... right?

A few years ago I studied up on how smoking the leaves of a plant informally called The Diviner's Sage might affect me. By the time I decided to do this the internet and the Erowid.com site had come into being, and all I had to do to familiarize myself with what might happen if I imbibed this stuff using the standard procedures employed by the old sages.

At Erowid.com a curiosity seeker can read about practically every sacrament known to man and written or talked about. Erowid has a section in their descriptions of such plants and chemicals in which people who use these sacraments can write comments about what they experienced during their reaction to putting the sacraments into their body.

By researching this web site and many others I prepared myself as much as possible to get the most positive experience I could from using this ancient ritual to reach beyond the sensory realm of ex-is-tense. I learned to do this the hard way.

The first drug I ever sought out to experience was LSD. I was around twenty-five years old when I heard on a radio program that some seminary students had taken this new drug, and each of them claimed to have had an audience and conversation with God.

I'd been jumping through my ass since I was a child to have that brief conversation with God, and all I had to do was to put some chemical in my body? I was astounded beyond words. I made up my mind on the spot. I didn't know how, but I was going to get some of this drug and put it in my body, and I didn't care if it killed me. Well, I ain't dead yet.

This mention of how I was attracted to getting some acid (LSD-25) in order to "tune in, turn on, and drop out" is what associated to what I did to prepare myself to smoke Diviner's Sage. I had been a psychonaut for twenty years and had used every psychedelic I'd had an opportunity to, including many of Shulgin's designer drugs up to the time I became aware of salvia divinorum. No designer drug that! Dimitri either!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salvia_divinorum

A lotta people have a lotta different experiences smoking the Sage. I've read about a lot of their experiences on the internet. If there is any one classical experience the accumulated database of writings describe I had a very revealing trip. That may have a lot to do with having done a lot of the sacraments previously, and having gained a deep understanding of what can go wrong if you let the right thing happen when you know you ought not to.

One of the recommendations of the writers who related their experience with the Sage is that you need a sitter when you do it the first few times. You don't know how you will react. Different strokes for different folks.

I had a friend who agreed to sit with me if I would return the favor his time around. His being there turned out to be a critical part of the entire experience. I have no idea if my sitting with him returned the favor. He's like what he accuses other people of being like, he doesn't talk. He doesn't know how to share. No older sisters. '-)

I learned more about death from smoking the salvia divinorum than any of my other psychedelic experiences. It turned out to be my conversation with God.
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