luka

Well-known member
When you move from weed to psychedelics the paranoia gets inflated to a cosmic scale. You shift timelines, end up in the wrong one. You jump from reality track to reality track. You influence world events. You are preyed on by malevolent spirits.myou are spied on from other dimensions. Occult forces swirl around you.
 

version

Well-known member
That Hemingway thing I posted in the PKD thread is very sad.

This man, who had stood his ground against charging water buffaloes, who had flown missions over Germany, who had refused to accept the prevailing style of writing but, enduring rejection and poverty, had insisted on writing in his own unique way, this man, my deepest friend, was afraid — afraid that the F.B.I. was after him, that his body was disintegrating, that his friends had turned on him, that living was no longer an option.

Decades later, in response to a Freedom of Information petition, the F.B.I. released its Hemingway file. It revealed that beginning in the 1940s J. Edgar Hoover had placed Ernest under surveillance because he was suspicious of Ernest’s activities in Cuba. Over the following years, agents filed reports on him and tapped his phones. The surveillance continued all through his confinement at St. Mary’s Hospital. It is likely that the phone outside his room was tapped after all.

In the years since, I have tried to reconcile Ernest’s fear of the F.B.I., which I regretfully misjudged, with the reality of the F.B.I. file. I now believe he truly sensed the surveillance, and that it substantially contributed to his anguish and his suicide.

I was in Rome the day he died.

I did not go to Ketchum for the funeral. Instead I went to Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, one of his favorite churches, and said goodbye to him there. I recalled a favorite dictum of his: man can be destroyed, but not defeated.

https://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/02/opinion/02hotchner.html
 

luka

Well-known member
I'd go quite long periods without being able to see my friends. I felt, not entirely inaccurately, that I wasn't fully accepted. Everything becomes very difficult. I don't see my friends nowadays either but that's because they've got nothing to say and I can't be bothered keeping up for the sake of it. I'd rather stare at the wall.
 

luka

Well-known member
I can remember running events back in my mind, in the aftermath, conversations I'd had, outbursts I'd made in class, gauche things I'd done, horrified by them. Tormented by what an idiot I'd been. I've lost that ability by and large and I regret losing it. I think the discomfort is worth the wisdom you gain.
 

luka

Well-known member
That thing where, in retrospect, another, hidden angle reveals itself and you realise what a fool you've been.
 

luka

Well-known member
And, fairly often, these hidden angles are essentially nothing more than paranoid fantasies. But it's the difference between living in a multiple universe of branching uncertainties and in a single track universe of complacency and self assurance.
 
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luka

Well-known member
I think you're right version. Everyone is too paranoid to speak honestly about paranoia.
 

pattycakes_

Can turn naughty
I think you're right version. Everyone is too paranoid to speak honestly about paranoia.

Version once posted something very honest about paranoia but deleted it right away. I was about to engage with him about it but then felt like maybe he was right
 

pattycakes_

Can turn naughty
I can remember teenage times, so stoned my own voice would be foregrounded in a very uncomfortable way and all the naturalism sucked out of it so that it seemed both unbearably artificial and intimately revealing. The stark vulnerability of your voice out there in space, daring to be heard. Very very difficult. Perhaps this is a kind of depersonalisation effect. I would have analogous experiences with regard to my clothes and to my physical bearing. How I was standing or sitting or walking.

I would hate the way my trousers bunched and folded and sagged or the way a jumper would hang off me. The materials seemed so cheap and ugly. I always seemed to be so much more badly dressed than everyone else.

Well described
 

version

Well-known member
Version once posted something very honest about paranoia but deleted it right away. I was about to engage with him about it but then felt like maybe he was right

I can't tell whether this is genuine or a very good trick to make me paranoid.

:crylarf:
 

luka

Well-known member
Well described

Thanks. I think what saved me from going completely mad was what with it being a drug effect you can sort of treat it like entertainment to some degree. It gives you that little buffer zone, that little bit of distance.
 

luka

Well-known member
E one thing I used to wish for was to be able to speak while stoned but as soon as I was able to do it weed lost its magic. If you're not trapped inside the glass tower you're not really stoned. If you can project your ego it's not working. So that was the end of that.
 
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