LSD is like a surprise party you’ve heard all about; even before the first encounter you believe yourself to be distantly acquainted like an astral soul mate. As the time approaches you believe yourself prepared and ready, maintaining a perfectly formed idea of the minute details comprising the events of the party: where it’s at, whats going to happen, who’s gonna be there. You are terribly excited and cannot wait to be greeted by the anticipated surprise. However, as one who savors the novelty of life, you go to great lengths to ensure the vernal appeal is fully preserved. You sneak up quietly, tip-toeing, trying not to disrupt the au courant beauty of your expectations. You await the glory, the thrill and approbation.
At the last expecting moment you feel an abrupt slap in the ass that throws you into an utterly befuddled, confused state. Swiftly, you swing around to find a retinue of happy, joyous, strange, aliens cheering your arrival. You do not know these people, you do not know why they are looking at you with such glib enthusiasm. You don’t know whether to greet them with a smile and beam equal joy, or recoil in alarming fear. This does not parse well with your expectations. You were expecting a party, but this is not the party you thought you’d attend. These are strangers, unknown to you. Their visage may suggest a warm disarming invitation to stay, but there is a strangeness. Do I embrace these outstretch arms and party with conviviality and without consternation? Or do I attempt to run? Should I escape and flee to a more familiar place? Perhaps the party I expected?
Little do you know, in that moment, you have no choice in the matter. You cannot cross the thresh hold twice. Fate has left you here and this is the party you must attend. The sooner you embrace it, the sooner you can appreciate it. Running from it is like running inward. There is no escape. You only go deeper and deeper, until you lose yourself. You cannot escape yourself.