Short Story “Trip”

Mind set to a standard shape as though my intellect is that of a home in a new subdivision.

Might have a few wild decorative strategies to set myself apart but never go too distant from the socially accepted standard quo’s.

Maybe a trip, figuratively and literally, to a land with an enlightened man who possesses shadowed magic that can redesign my framework.

Book a flight before my right shoulder can tell me no, my heart pace races as though I am in anticipation of an upcoming lift.

Time flies more by the day, as the departure date budges closer. I Played a few mental predictions, couple of the scenarios had me wound up with a mental infliction after a heavy dosage of an osteopathic shaman prescription.

The day is here, I am ready for my journey. A journey through the air to the land that will show me how to harness my inner space.

Greeted by a somewhat Mystical illusional and delusional man. My leader. An ayahuasca feeder

I accompany him to the parking lot
We walk right past
He’s not saying a lot
Walking rather fast
Focused on his task
Small chat felt intimidating

I waited until I could go no more
Asked for a break
He said we are here
Your outer limit
Our destination
Set up camp
Have your tent face the East

Which way is East, I ask
Just kidding he said, do what thou wilt with your direction
So many ways that could be taken I thought

Woke up to harmonious birds, as I peaked out the tent to a display of golden rays hitting unfamiliar trees.
He was awake already
What kind of trees are those? I ask
Pineal
Isn’t that a gland
Then he took my hand
Gripped it with unyielding force
Placed a morsel on my tongue
And it felt as though all the worlds thoughts were one
Soon that feeling was done
A spiraling tie dye fusion of my surroundings
Head, heart, inner ears pounding
Me talking but no sense of it’s true verbal expression
Am I saying, is this me you who, or an inner you, inner me hehehe
The one that should really be telling me what to do, not the knowledge of what is hip, cool, or currently in, but what is ..... within.

The sound of a video being rewound left me sitting in a daze looking at my leader. Realizing that the only two interactions I had with this man led to ..... something. Maybe he is not my leader, I picked the camp site, I chose to discuss the pineal trees. My leader isn’t him, my leader is me.

I finish my enteral thought as I look up to him.
Where to next? He asks
I stand and unassuredly gesture to follow me

I trek up the trail with no true direction. Even though I was uncertain of myself, the feeling of control felt inspiring. I was in charge, I was the #ing man and I can do whatever the hell I want.

Stop he said. Get down, get down. Wait here.
He left me, like really abandoned me.
Was this a game, a test. If so I want to show him I’m the best, so I stayed right there and took a rest.

Woke periodically to blaring buzzing
Tickling of creepy crawly critters
Miserable and disappointed I waited, to be the best

Night came and left to what felt like it had overstayed it’s welcome. Still alone, hungry, tired, cold, bitten, I gave up and returned to camp.

There he sat with a grinch like smile.
Why do you listen to another and follow a rule that you have no knowledge of the meaning of its existence? You just follow, adhere, submiss.

Question the rules. That should be your one and only rule?

Are you sure about that rule I said jokingly
Very funny, tonight is your night, you are ready to engage your perspective in a way you have never done before. Get some rest, that’s not a rule, but a soft suggestion.

A long nap concluded with the sound of crackling logs engulfed in flames. It was time. I arose and opened my tent to the sight of my lead, my friend tending to a robust fire which cast his lively shadow on the pineals.

In an atypical serious tone he explained to me “Tonight I’m going to give you some thing, you will love it, you will believe in it, and then you’ll leave with a message that can’t be put into words. But don’t fall in love with it, fall in love with it’s sense of meaning.”

A moment of pause led to him grabbing a pot of stew from the flame. Symbolic I thought. But maybe the symbol of flame being bad and some thing to stray from is nothing more than a way to keep us from the light.

Who knows, I took the steamy bowl, my last supper I thought. The smell was tart with an aroma of plant matter.
I lifted my bowl and said “when in Rome” and proceeded to gulp every last drop.

All was well until, I lost the sense of feel. Not feel in terms of touch, but feel, care, mind. Mind, my mind started to unwind and rapidly travel like a giant scroll unraveled with thick tan paper full of life’s knowledges out of my parietal lobe.

Paused at a low point in my wave, the quick sense of reality short lived as a hyper drive jolted me ahead, stars flying by as I arrive at the speed of light. So swift in my movement that suddenly I was still. In dark matter, in the middle of....no where.

I could do anything there. Nobody to ..... judge. Judgement, mind bent on the thought of the hereafter so much so that it effects your now. With that thought, I never did return, but I did continue, unguided, and ready for my next voyage.