It starts with a young Atlas, curious about the world seeking to expand his mind. As he progresses through life, he begins to associate with other like minded individuals who decide to go on a spirit quest.

Fast forward five years.

Atlas is older and still seeking new ways to expand his mind. The original members of his group of psychonauts have long since been replaced and the replacements have been replaced (as those things tend to go).

And that's about all. I apologize, but writing isn't my strong suits.

Also, I produce music. I'll post links if anyone shows interest.

Hello TheyCallMeAtlas,

Welcome to the Nexus. Yet another psychedelic "re-entry" student it sounds like. More and ore of us "middle" agers seem to be coming back to tripping and coming to the Nexus. It makes me very happy, .

Please take a good look around this place. You will see we are in a time of revolution, as our main DMT plant is no longer procurable. Thus folks are researching new plants, new teks and working on long-term projects of "growing their own" from seeds, etc.

I would love to hear some of your music, as I'm sure other Nexians would too.

Anything else you can tell us about yourself - what entheogens you have tried and your impressions to date perhaps. The type of music you produce and how you got into that maybe? More info on your early days with your psychonaut group would be intriguing . . . .anything else that would allow us to get to know you a bit better.

Okay, I hope to see you around. Again, welcome to the Nexus.

Welcome bud. If you can show that you deserve to become a full member, this would be a great place to share your art. We have tons of artists here!

I was about to post a quick summery of my exploratory exploits but felt compelled to share a recent experience instead.

So, Atlas and a friend of his were sitting in the studio the other day using the equipment to listen to another close friends work. As time went on, Atlas' friend suggested consuming a product. As I am not sure what the exact etiquette is pertaining to discussing such matters here, I wont give the actual name of the substance unless asked. I can say that it was a bad idea.

Anyway, the experience started as usual, but after about an hour and a half in, Atlas decided he needed to up his dosage.

Standing inside, alone, Atlas administered himself another dose and was in the process of putting the vial away when a spill occurred.

A long, thick line of the substance traced along from his index fingertip down to a few inches below the wrist.

Stupidly, Atlas decided the only smart way to solve this problem was by licking it all up.

Then things went sideways.

(To be continued...)

I posted this in my other topic, but I'm reposting the link here because it pertains to the subject matter and was created shortly after the incident:

Skewed Axis

Atlas cleaned up the mess was returning to the studio when something troublesome occurred. It seemed his first dosage had decided to wait until just then to kick in.

'Great,' thought Atlas, 'this could be the end of me.'

If only things were that easy.

Have you ever seen the movie, 'We Don't Know Bleep About Anything.'?

It deals with the implications of the theories that drive quantum mechanics.

Two of the implications, that we create our own reality and that we are all, in fact, gods or God, were basically the driving force of the 48 hour vacation that ensued after his ingesting of that mystery dose of that one liquid that shall remain nameless.

The effects?

A crippling, depressing, boredom.
A boredom so intense that even the act of killing oneself would not be able to relieve to mind numbing nothingness of it all!

Cue dramatics for 36 hours.

The remaining hours were spent shuffling about and trying to convince Atlas he was sober again. Coffee helped where sleep was impossible. A hot shower cleared the mind. A familiar comedy about two brits and an alien with a hilarious human name keeps the mind from thinking too much so that it can sleep. Five days later, things have stopped going wonky, Atlas can think again, the paranoia has vanished, and happiness has returned.

The moral of the story?

Whatever you want it to be.
I choose to be happy