I seek chemical means to bring myself into a different state of mind.
However, instead of escaping this world, I want my mind to clear, to fully integrate itself into the environment, and to be able to assess and observe a situation critically. I’ve been trying to achieve that state of mind where ideas flow unheeded. Some people believe that music can bring this sort of ‘mental harmony’. I do not agree. I believe in absolute and total silence, coupled with no distracting visual stimulation. However, because silence of this nature is not only hard to achieve, but is unnatural to the ears, I could make do with ‘natural’ background noises: the scuff of slippers on a concrete floor, the gentle clinking of knives and forks at dinner, and the occasional soft murmur of dialogue filtering through the house into the study. Only then will I be able to clear my head of the ever-present noise that clutters up my brain, hindering my thought processes. This is in ideal conditions, however. If I cannot achieve such conditions, then I turn to chemical stimulation. Caffeine. The only drug of this kind that I can think of at the moment. Coffee. Alta Rica instant. One and a half sugars. What a lot of people don’t know is that refined sugar is a poison. New Scientist has shown studies that link it to an increase in heart disease. This is why I have my sugar raw.
Can one abuse a drug like caffeine? Alcohol is easily abused. So is every other form of recreational drug engineered to allow the user to escape from the harshness of reality into a false, self-created Utopia which can rapidly descend into a Hell. But other drugs which promote enlightenment? And by this I mean true, and thoughtful enlightenment, which is not a product of an enhanced imagination through the imbibing of several stupefacients. I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. Maybe I never will. Maybe my life will be none the better if I did know them.
Or maybe I do not need any of these external influences to bring about the meaningful indulgence of my thought processes. Perhaps it is a conscious state, that whenever I feel I am ready to write, I will do so. If I am ready to philosophise my thoughts on paper, then I will do so in a lucid manner. If I feel that I am ready to strip away and discard the mundane, routine and passively dull monotones of tried-and-tested formulas of writing, then I will do so. And I will dazzle and stand out from the crowd as I do so. I will prove that I am not as they are, have never been, and that they have not been given the right to judge me as though I were.
I feel a hyper-sensitivity of myself as a flawed human being. Not flawed because I am a human being, but flawed because I am myself. Because I am unequivocally, unconditionally me. This is self-pity to a higher state of awareness. However, it lays down the foundations of the path towards self-improvement.
I am falling into a self-made pit of despair. I can put this down to hormonal imbalance, a lack of carbohydrates in my diet, a lack of mental stimulation. On the other hand, I can attribute an authentic and very real reason for this condition. Condition. I don’t think it deserves that title. Illusion, maybe. Self-pity is another form of selfishness, an impenetrable wall from which there can be no reprieve. Yet this depression is a sacred thing. It will not be interrupted by humour, joy or a feeling of well-being. I maintain that sufferance is the way of life. The science of discontent. The only constant in life. If you are not suffering, you are not living.
I’d back it up with concrete evidence, if I had any. I can only write down random assertions and hope they cling together in an intelligible article. I am the representative unit of deprivation. I am starved. A hungry man needs food. An island needs company.
I am an island girt by hostile waters. At least I don’t feel depressed so much anymore. My sense of well-being has even approached normalcy at times. I’m starting to feel optimistic again, ocassionally. Inherently, I am an optimistic person, but I’ve put that down to me leading a sheltered life so far. But I support pessimism, as despair is a sacred emotion, which should not be tainted by superficial and animalistic feelings of infantile joy.
I seek chemical means to enter a different state of mind.
Through the imbibing of mind-altering substances, aspects about life which make no sense to those who are sober become crystal clear and take on entirely new meaning. One is alone in this enlightenment. Any attempts to communicate such exquisite knowledge comes across as feeble and nonsensical. The enlightened soul knows this, and is left to wish that this communication did not occur in the first place.
It came to me that a line which I came up with a couple of years ago made absolute and perfect sense to the situation which I had been facing a couple of nights ago.
“I will prove that I am not as they are, have never been, and that they have not been given the right to judge me as though I were.”
What that line actually means is not important. I’m merely using it as an example of when it became crystal clear for about five minutes, before vanishing like the pot of gold which disappears in the morning, the evening promises which are to be broken by the next daybreak.
I envy those writers who don’t find it hard to write something that isn’t menial, or for whom maintaining a website isn’t a chore. I admire their natural ability to write well. I think of people’s journal writing ability as a reflection of how they view life, how they can see past the mundane into a richly detailed and colourful aspect of their life. A couple of years ago I was into sites which promoted death, despair and angst within its journal entries. At the time, I saw those writers as being ‘enlightened’. I suppose it’s not the most accurate term to describe those writers now. I can see now that at the time I liked their ability to see the more interesting parts of their life (their angst, and how life sucks), which made for a more interesting read.
Which is not to say that for me, keeping a site has become a chore. There have been a few times when I’d become disillusioned with writing, and finding that my site was becoming too “menial”, so I’d shut it down for a month or so before opening it up again in a new layout or theme. It’s a common thing among webmasters to have a hiatus every now and then. But I do have a continuing battle to keep from writing something that’s uninteresting or, worse of all, commonplace. A lot of the time I get my inspiration from movies which see a different world underneath all of the mainstream crap and commercialised candy-coating on everything in today’s world, like Ghost World, American Beauty, and Adaptation. And teen angsty writers irritate me. Not the kind of teen angst that comes from political discontent, or from frustration in trying to fit in in today’s mainstream society (although speaking from experience, I think it is best if they never tried in the first place). The irritation comes from the angst of high-school politics, ‘relationships’ and self-interested egotism. Especially self-interested egotism. Not only does it irritate me, but it is also boring. I’m not placing myself on some sort of moral high horse. I just don’t want to read that kind of stuff when reading about someone’s life.
But, hey, some people are into that kind of stuff. After all, if there isn’t a market for it, then it wouldn’t be so prevalent among today’s online journals. It’s just a pity that glorifying the underground world isn’t in fashion at the moment.
I try to keep my ego out of my writing, and I try not to serve my own interests as much as possible when keeping this journal. Angst has rarely played a part in my writing, and it only does when I’m seeking a way to shelve some of the stress in my adult life. I also try to promote sites which do the same.