(no subject)

I've got so little to do here right now. My whole job up to this point has been focused around the new program, and it's in limbo right now, so I'm in limbo along w/it. In my spare time I've been trolling the boards at the WoW forums... there's a lot of debate about multi-boxing. If I could afford it, I would.

The other night, I think it was Saturday, I plucked and ate one of my jimsonweed sprouts, which are doing quite well for still being jam-packed into itty bitty teeny tiny Jiffy pots. They already have that decidedly rank, lush, slightly nauseating jimsonweed scent, but the sprout tasted like green peppers in a way. I laid in bed with a drumming CD on & held the leaves under my tongue for awhile. I got nothing, other than a brief flash of phosphenes and a glimmer of a large greenish snake's head. It looked like an anaconda. Then it was me just rolling the chewed up leaves around trying to make my tongue numb. Most of the botany sites claim that the tropane alkaloids are more concentrated in young datura leaves and stems, but it had little or no effect on me. I did sleep really fucking good once Rob had quieted down.

I need to get them into bigger pots, but the fungus flies... gah! I've been looking for Gnatrol but I don't think Wal-Mart carries it. Have to check Lowe's. Rob's been feeding one of his bathroom spiders the gnats he can catch. I wonder if maybe Wal-Mart has a generic version of Gnatrol? I am wary about using nematodes because of the whole Southern upbringing 'wear your shoes outside after a rain or worms will eat into your feet' thing. Guinea worm - aggh!

Asceticism

I've been ruminating about certain things I've learned about spiritual experiences and the various training I've received over the years.

While living with Penny, I had to master my hunger, overcome it. I don't know if Penny cared or not, but I never wanted to show her any weakness, so the more she neglected to buy food, the more I neglected to broach the subject. I basically just starved, slowly and continually. I found I could subsist on little food, sometimes going days without it at all if there was a school break or a long weekend, or when Penny had me held hostage on some softball tournament. I became kind of secretive about eating because anytime we went out and there was a group food setting, Penny was always on my ass, watching like a hawk to see if I consumed a slice of pizza or a second helping of a potluck dish or a few extra holiday cookies. I learned to find that quiet, still center inside myself when she was deep in her drunken mania & I had no place else to hide.

From time spent in the truck I even learned to control other bodily urges - I've got a huge bladder. Of course, my kidneys didn't thank me any, but I can go a long time between bathroom breaks. It's kind of nice in that I never miss the most exciting scenes in a movie. I used to be able to go a week at a time without sleep - now it's a blessing when I can sleep.

Starvation lends itself to visions. The brain, when deprived of various vitamins & minerals, proteins, amino acids, etc. is a proving ground for altered states of consciousness. When meditating, part of the control gained is that of the physical body - going long periods of time in discomfort, mastering the creaking joints and stretched muscles, transcending the flesh. I can still handle temperature extremes

Of course, here I am some twenty years later, extremely well-fed ::pokes belly:: and definitely not as limber or as able to ignore my physical state of being. This chair is killin' my ass. The a/c is freezing my feet and hands. The television drives me up a wall since Rob & Cthulhu have it on day & night. No wonder I can't meditate anymore - I'm full of vitamins & rocks & I have no self-discipline anymore. I'm worried that I may be developing PAD and I don't want to work the elections because of the standing but I feel thoroughly obligated to go through with the pain & misery.

There's a new hitch in my life, too. I'm reading the wrong book. It's called Supernatural by Graham Hancock, and it's a theory that shamanic trance & initiation experiences, alien abductions and faeries are all one in the same, it's just cultural perception that determines which experience we see. The whole reason I started reading it was because I thought it was about ayahuasca and cave paintings and other primitive shamanic practices - but once I started to see the big picture I was halfway through, and much like the eyeball tattooing, I'm masochistically drawn to keep reading the damned thing. When I was laying there munching on datura, I started to worry about what if I did see something, specifically, an alien? Aliens freak me out, I can't help it. The whole alien abduction thing just bothers me on a deep primal level. And now I'm going to worry every time I meditate or try to go somewhere else that I'm going to have a close encounter of the small, grey and bug-eyed. I may have ruined whatever subtle influence the datura spirit was trying to offer me. I'm also kind of afraid to go to bed because the aliens like to kidnap people in their sleep.