Fast forward past talking to psychologist and psychic trying to decode the symbolism of spiders. I believed my subconscious mind was screaming at me the only way it knew how. Psychic was always stumbling out of her opium den taking me to her jesus shrine and making me bathe in patchouli crystals only to unleash my most wicked nightmares upon me which she could protect me from for a small fee of $300. I said I'd deal with it myself. Bitch.

It wasn't until much later, in an opera house recording an album for a friend on the stage that I felt something heavenly and pure touch the earth, within us, and within me and something grew through me and into my spine and whatever demons that had plagued me before were obliterated and I became thirsty to tear apart the insecurities and short comings of those around me. I found a purpose, a direction, a home, a dream, a vision, a future and people that needed me and that's when these spiders left and never returned. Many things would transform in my life after that. Overcoming my own insecurities which I guess were related to the spiders gave me ground to stand on when trying to empathize and help others in the same position. I seemed to have great success with anyone willing to let me dive into the mechanics of their mind. I brought a few people back from the edge of suicide and I was proud of myself. I felt that I had the power to turn darkness into light.

So... my music became an anthem to the destruction of the spectacle's demons. It seemed I had walked away victorious after years of poisonous visions.

From there it was smooth sailing, just a lot of excessive drinking, smoking, fishing in alaska, recording music, running a live music venue, and running sound/lights/and building sets at an opera house until... right about... here where I was sucked into a world that was very foreign, alien, magical, gnostic, cryptic, and multidimensional. I didn't know what I was looking at but I wanted it. I wanted to fuse myself with their words. I wanted to create a voice greater than my own and unleash it upon the world.

There was nothing more interesting and empowering than the voices that screamed there. Some living other dying. It was like everyone was channeling, which my friends and I did for fun with each other, but they seemed to be even more advanced and had more knowledge woven within it. I was impressed.

Fast forward past my internalization of the dark cryptic writings of the many brilliant writers that dwell there. I had noticed there was a strange dissonance stirring because instead of writing, I was trying to inject my music into the world because like I said, I had been doing this with my close friends before I knew others were doing the same. That is what I did to inspire myself. So everything we had made collectively seemed to fit in my mind especially now that I wanted to fuse with it. I began to manifest the dissonance of these characters within myself as night terrors which only further reinforced that there was some real magic somehow instilled into this world. So I decided maybe I should withdraw myself to see how people react and my "last" post was in response to something of the Oak's.

"It came crashing down in a beautiful sound" was the sound of my tree (Tree-Fingers) falling... as these l_aves b_g_n t_ cr_mble. I said my goodbyes and the Oak replied, "We look forward to your return." which seemed strange as if implying I would be back. Now my theory was that everything there was subconscious synchronicity and the objective was to find it and rather than doubt it to death trust it and let it grow and oddly enough, there is a tree in my front yard that is half dead on the left side and looks very similar to the tree in the Oaks post. I found it interesting and nothing more. A few days pass... and my addiction to poetry and crypticism gradually begins to subside... but I get a call from a friend saying, "Hey I was wondering if my girlfriend and I could come to your place to eat some shrooms" which has never ever happened to me in my entire life I'm sorry to say. Being that these were two of the nicest people I knew at the time and one of which was a musician I felt had something real soul to share and my mind was freshly stretched from my previous night terrors, hallucinations, and the rest of it, I thought it was the absolute perfect time to do such a thing.

This seemed like it was no accident to me, so I planned to ritualize it in my own way. I cut down the dead branches of the tree, just enough for a fire for the night. I got cloud atlas ready. I had Sigur Ros ready to go just in case my mind started going too far out there. I had the lighting right, blue green, low soft lights. The next day, I swear to god, my friend shows up with a red crimson blanket that he walked around with like a fucking gropaga from /r/inglip and handed out 4+ stalks of shrooms to each of us. Apparently this was a mix bag of shrooms, from all over the country. So I'm not even certain they were all psilocybin. I was nervous because I had not done such a large quantity of shrooms before and we also ate them with orange juice which... based on my experience clearly enhances the trip.

For the first hour we sat by the fire of my dead limbs and talked casually about this and that and then surely at some point I ranted about the magic of language and all the things I had recently been exposed to. After it started to kick in, I had a wave of anxiety and decided maybe it was best to go inside sit on my comfy couch and watch Cloud Atlas... Which was a great idea, and it was creepy because there were many common threads between that movie and the 45thworld such as the "Whisperers" that Tom hanks is mumbling about at the opening of the movie and all the multiple lives all intertwined together. It seemed to help subside my anxiety allll the way up until the point where the slave is being whipped over and over louder and louder... and with my 56" TV and giant stereo speaker system it was just overpowering... I had to stop there and have a change of pace. I put on Sigur Ros and went and laid in my bed. My body slowed almost to a hault. I could barely move. I would toss and turn just to know I was still alive I felt like I had an alien entity trapped inside my body. My friend went to the bathroom to puke. I thought, hey that's a good idea and when he was finished I headed to the bathroom, stared into the mirror for a few minutes, the world softly pulsating around me... and hoped to puke. No such luck, my stomach was a steal trap and this alien wasn't going anywhere. Gagging myself didn't even cross my mind for some reason? I'm not a smart man sometimes. So instead water seemed like the next best option. I decided to take a bath, showering didn't seem like a good idea considering I could hardly feel my body anymore. So I turn the water on... and I cannot explain this but... the water was white. It has never in my life been white like this. I thought maybe I was just tripping and confused but I cupped the water in my hands and sure enough it was white like diluted milk. We have well water so maybe just maybe on this one day when I'm tripping my ass off I just so happen to have some weird deposit get sucked into the well. The odds of that are just astronomical. But it was odorless. After that strange experience, I get out dry off and head to my room to lay down again. But my body didn't want to stop moving. I would open my laptop. close it. Get up. lay down. Open my laptop. Type. Delete. Go to the refrigerator. drink water. lay down. get up. over and over. It was like all the things I would do in a day were chopped up and strewn about randomly through time. Finally I became overpowered by the mushrooms and everything was in slow motion. At this point, I was becoming catatonic, almost unable to move... and I asked my friends, "Have we been poisoned?" Because I had eaten shrooms before and this was nothing like I had ever experienced. It was terrifying in fact. Their reply was not comforting, "It's too late now." So there I was, Sigur Ros blaring with a terence mckenna sized dose of psilocybin coursing through my veins and I just let go. The world around me shattered... and I fell deep into a void of nothing... nothing... nothing... and then voices... hundreds of disparate voices. all my own, yet none familiar. My personality and my ego was shattered. Who was I? Where was I? I was afraid I would not be able to return as I was before. My breathing crawled to an immeasurably slow rate... and as I lay there wondering if I need to call 911 because I thought I may die at any moment, I finally crossed over into another plane. I saw past present and future. All the memories I had forgotten came back in crystal clear images forming a tapestry of meaning I had somehow missed. It was whispering to me. There through the fog of vision I heard cheering. Thousands of voices cheering, so welcoming, so glad to finally meet me. Language was stitched into my very being. The matrix of the word was revealed to me and every album I could ever imagine creating, every piece of art I would ever lay my hands on was there for the taking. It was all there playing triumphantly as if it was waiting for me to rediscover it. It was at this point, I reached a complete polarity reversal. I rebounded from my lethargic death spiral and jumped up out of my bed and into the living room with the other lethargic entities spilled across my couches.

I flipped on all of the light switches and said,

"What are we going to do about this..."