I had the most-mind blowing experience that I am compelled to share.
Time: Yesterday, circa 10am.
ROA: Small glass "meth pipe"
Quantity: 38mg, carefully weighed, plus god-knows how much residue left over from earlier.
Setting: My comfortable apartment, by myself, with no music playing, lying on a couch. Full light.
Set: I've got a lot of real-world concerns, but I'm feeling great about life.
Now then, I vaporized it slow and good, took in one huge lungful. Lied on my couch, got comfy, held my breath, as long as I could, cleared my thoughts, LOUD carrier signal, I remembered to exhale, then inhaled deeply. And then ...
She's so BEAUTIFUL!!! I can't even look at her, it's like staring at the sun. Pure radiance from a distinctly female entity.
Savage. Carnal. Sexual. Playful. Enticing. Call her a goddess figure, Gaia, Mother Nature, the Virgin Mother, Shakti, whatever the name: I had to
know her ... in the Biblical sense of the word.
Like all intimate encounters, first I had to get undressed. I take off one layer and a good portion of my identity dissolves into the ether. Not enough. I take off another layer and I know I'm some guy. Who? I have no idea, but who cares? I have to have her. But that's not enough either. To do this dance, you have to get naked to your core.
I finally strip until I'm exposed as my being can be. I am not sure if I'm even human at this point, but oddly I still am still masculine, and she is still the feminine object of desire. I stand before her dazzling brilliance and she grabs me by the arms. Our limbs fuse into one another and we begin to perform a throbbing, animalistic, wild, sexual dance.
It was
sexual, but not in the sense that it was leading to a climax, nor in the sense that genitalia had anything to do with it. Every motion was an orgasmic explosion of beauty and love, each that outdid the one before. She knew I was a virgin, and took good care of me. She delighted in how engrossed I was in the energy and joy of the dance.
It was
ritualistic. It was like a specific dance, with a certain motion, and she lead the dance. We rocked to a specific rhythm, and to it was the most beautiful music. Any music of man would be a pale metaphor, but if I had to pick a genre, I'd actually say "rock and roll." Guitar power-chords synchronized with our every primal twist.
It was
savage. Not like people making love; like animals in the throes of passion. We were howling at the moon in indescribable ecstasy.
It was
cannibalistic. She grabbed my back and pulled my "heart" toward her face and slurped it up, while I licked her neck and then inhaled her head. We consumed one another. The further we consumed one another, the more we achieved a unity, a crazy undulating ouroboros of endless self-consuming bliss.
Then came foldback-time. I suppose my eyes might have been opened the whole time because the first thing I "saw" was my room. It suddenly all came back to me, planet earth, who I am, the affairs I have for the day, and so forth. I let out a huge yawn, and my eyes tear up. I am still seeing (with eyes open or closed) the most amazing structures of alien architecture that one could describe, but that was superfluous at that stage.
No need to gild the lily. I just made beautiful love with the Goddess.
-- Glossy
I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes. โ Walt Whitman