Dream of: 29 March 1996 "Confrontation With God"
I had gone to a place in the country where I was planning to camp out. Although most of the area was grassy, one large section was covered with concrete – like a parking lot – and it was on the concrete area where I began arranging my camp. When had I finished, I had constructed a three-tier bunk bed on which I planned to sleep.
While I had been assembling the bed, many other people had begun gathering in the same area until an enormous crowd encircled me. Only when I began to hear music, did I realize a rock concert was going to take place here, and all the people had arrived for the concert. I also wanted to see the concert, but when a large tractor pulled in close to my bed, I was afraid the tractor would block my view of the stage. I immediately walked over to the man driving the tractor and apprised him of my concern. He quickly pointed out the stage to me, which was in the opposite direction from his tractor. Realizing the tractor in no way blocked my view, I returned to the bed.
I had brought three tablets of LSD along with me to the camp. I had already taken one hit of the acid as I had been building the bed, and as I now climbed back onto the topmost bunk, I began to feel the effects of the drug. At the same time, I began wondering where I had put the other two hits of acid. Looking over the edge of the bed, I could see a wooden box lying on the ground far below me. The box (in which I had placed the other two tablets of LSD) had tipped over so that the tablets of acid had spilled out onto the ground. The two small orange tablets of LSD lying on the ground looked as if they might have become damp and begun to melt. I needed to retrieve the acid; but since I was already beginning to feel somewhat incapacitated by the acid I had taken, I didn't want to climb off the bed.
Meanwhile people had crowded in all around my bed and one fellow had even occupied the bunk directly under mine. A tall lanky fellow, probably in his mid-twenties, he was standing on the ground next to the bed. I thought his name was "JJ" and using that name, I called out to him. He looked up at me and asked quizzically, "Who's JJ?"
Realizing his name wasn't "JJ", I nevertheless continued talking with him, explaining that I needed his help in retrieving the wooden box on the ground at the end of the bed. I indicated that because I had already taken some acid, I didn't want to climb out of the bed. Explaining my incapacity, I observed, "I can hardly let air come through my mind."
I was trying to explain that I couldn't think clearly because the air wasn't circulating well through my brain. But when I thought about it, I was unsure whether air actually passed through my mind, and I worried that I might have expressed myself incorrectly.
The strapping fellow walked over to the box, picked it up (along with the two orange tabs of acid), and handed everything to me. I in return gave him one of the orange tabs of LSD, which with complete insouciance he quickly plopped into his mouth and swallowed. His utter nonchalance in taking the acid made me wonder if he realized just how potent the drug was. At the same time, I put the last remaining orange tablet in my mouth and swallowed it. But when I suddenly began to feel the first hit of acid start to kick in more strongly, I reflected that perhaps I should not have been so hasty in taking the second hit.
I began to become a little frightened. My bed, which now seemed about 30 meters high in the air, was none too stable. I could observe all the people gathered around below, and I could discern the stage in the distance. But I was concerned that if I remained on the top bunk, the bed might topple over. Finally I found a trap door in the bed, opened it, and climbed down to the second tier, which seemed much more secure.
I had carried the wooden box with me, and now that I was sitting on the second bunk, I noticed a handful of white powder in the box: cocaine. Although I didn't recall having brought the cocaine with me, since it was here, I decided to try some. I pulled out a $20 bill, rolled it up, and began snorting some of the powder. I then handed the $20 bill to the other fellow (who was still standing beside the bed) so he could also snort some. I hoped I wouldn't become so intoxicated that I would forget to take bill back. As I handed the bill to the fellow, I added, "Its kind of damp."
I was referring to the cocaine, which, like the LSD, had absorbed some moisture when the wooden box had been lying open on the ground. But the dampness of the cocaine didn't deter the other fellow, who eagerly began snorting.
My speech had become somewhat slurred, reflecting the torpid intoxicated state of my mind. In fact, I was beginning to feel rather bad – the acid didn't seem to be having the anticipated salutary results. I had thought the acid would clear my mind and allow me to think better. But just the opposite seemed to be happening – my mind seemed clogged.
I had made a mistake by taking the acid. Unable to control what was happening to me, I would probably not be able to sleep all night. And this was hardly the environment where I wanted to be tripping on acid – in the middle of a rock concert. I would like to be somewhere quiet where I could commune with God. Now it was more likely that I would have a confrontation with God. My only recourse was to return to the top bunk and try to meditate. But because I had taken all the drugs, the meditation would somehow seem fake. About the best I could hope for now was to penitently suffer through this night of torpor, and hope I hadn't done any permanent damage to myself.
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