When I need a break from the distractions of life, I simply take some time to get in touch with my spirituality. I usually do this by dropping acid and walking around in public places. This activity allows me to see things as they are, without the oppression of my conscious mind. So last year, on Easter Sunday, I woke up early and dropped five hits of LSD. Then I drove out to Maymont Park, which I thought would be quiet for the holiday.
Well as it turns out, everybody goes to Maymont on Easter, and they bring their kids. There's Easter egg hunts and everything. It seemed like a bit too much of a crowd for the state I was in, but at least they were all in a good mood. I began to feel pretty weird, so I wandered to the safety of the "bamboo forest" area and snuck around through the tall bamboo.
I lost my bearings a bit in there, but felt pretty safe. It was quiet. I took out my one-hitter and took a had a nice fat hit of some weed to smooth things over. As I finished my exhale a fast moving Vietnamese family of four came hiking through a side trail and right through my smoke. Why does weird stuff like that always happen when you're tripping? We may never know.
Although my stomach felt dull and numb I sensed that I had to pee. This was bad, because the bathrooms at Maymont can be weird. They're these small, echoey out-buildings. Most of the light is coming from the opened rectangle windows along the top of the walls. This creates an refraction of light and outside sounds that can be dangerous to the psychologically sensitive. I decided to focus and just get it over with.
I kept my head down, hurried into a stall, and did my business. Knowing the danger, I glanced quickly at the mirror on my way back out. I couldn't help but notice that I had a long diagonal pen mark across my neck. I decided to try to get it off with some wet paper towel. Ten minutes later I'm walking back out of the restroom with part of my neck rubbed red raw and water all over my messed up shirt collar. Stupid mirrors! They always get me!
I wandered around the back of one of the maintenance buildings and sat down to get some peace. That's when, out of nowhere, the cutest little calico bunny appeared around the other side by some bushes. I stayed still as he casually hopped over. I held out some tender grass for him to eat, and before I knew it I was holding him, eyes shut, fully in tune. I have no idea how long this went on.
My trance was broken by a screaming girl, followed by a boy, both of whom had discovered me and my bunny. I looked down and the stupid thing was lifeless in my arms, eyes all bugged out. Apparently it was extremely diseased or something because it's neck was all bloated and wormy looking. I guess that would explain it's unexpected friendliness. I jumped up, tossed it's body into one of the kid's little baskets, and calmly walked away toward the exit of the park.
At first I put the whole experience down to just being a bad trip. But now that I've examined that day further, I realize that I learned something. I learned that the conscious mind is there for a reason, and it's best not to leave it unguarded. That's why I get shitfaced each night before bed. It keeps me from having any more realistic dreams about that fucking rabbit.