SOLUS IPSE

Some nights I am dreaming. I think most of them I am dreaming. Not much but clearly, enough. There is also some nights when all I can remember is amnesia. Funny how familiar that feels. Amnesia I mean.

In this dream, one of my former ’friends’ is stuffing this leaky plastic baggie full of white powder in the pocket of my trousers. Must have been atleast 20g’s! I think it wasn’t a powdered version of that PEZ candy thing I was obsessed as a kid. Although it was laced with some whole-wheat flour or something similar, I could see that. I was studying with that guy not too many years ago to become a paramedic. It didn’t work out that way, because he started to sell hash and I became mental health counselor instead. And he started to sell hash. A lot. Oh, and he ripped me off… Surprise that a junkie would do that to one another. He also threw this one long-haired guy down the stairs of some dance club in city I was living at that time. The guy left that club with two paramedics and a wheelchair. The irony of that.

But from that baggie, in this dream I took a little taster of that white powder. I can remember that it felt so WEAK I started to have this hatred build up in me for that guy, even though he crammed that baggie in my pocket free of charge. What a rascal! That much he respects me, that little-bulky bastard! This is how a tweaker thinks. What’s in it for me? There is nobody else. I can think only for myself.

My ability to think about other human beings and their condition ceased to exist in me long time ago. If there is some drug-induced personality disorder that can be defined, I would fit in all the criteria. Hands down. A full blown covert-narcissist type of deal. I was proud of my stealthy mind manipulaton skills. And I couldn’t help myself. Like I did the drugs, I had to DO all the people also. At best I must have been annoingly arrogant, creepy but sad and humorous character stumbling around and messing with peoples heads. And at my worst, truly loathsome and scaringly unpredictable destroyer of all the good and happy what is left in life. I was that depressing factor everybody would want to get away with, as soon as possible.

This is how solipsism happened. I bought this research chemical called DOC. 2,5-dimethoxy-4-chloroamphetamine. I put the tab on my tongue and went to my former girlfriend’s apartment. I had some MDMA for her also, and thought we would be tripping that night together. When the DOC started working I remember listening this one song (Faithless – We Come 1) and something shifted inside of my mind. Although while tripping, I enjoyed the lyrics and the general feeling it brought to that situation, I still couldn’t fathom the real consequenses of that situation. It was literally life-changing night. But not for the better. I was a fan of zen buddhism before, meditating, reading sutras and all that kind of thing… I Still am actually. But at that time I had changed my obsession of zen wisdom and noble eightfold path to not-so-noble path with drugs. Maybe that was because of depression or mostly drug-induced problems in the relationship or something. I can’t pinpoint the most prominent cause of that depression. Maybe it was buprenorphine killing all the emotions for another person so I was left with only depression.

That trip lasted for 24 hours. And in the morning, while still tripping I went back to my own apartment. Back to my sweet solitude. The night went well, no arguments this time but again, we both were drugged out of our minds. And we had tripped so many many times, this wasn’t anything exceptional, for atleast her. To me it was! At my place, I started to read this philosophy book called Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre. It concerns a dejected historian, who becomes convinced that inanimate objects and situations encroach on his ability to define himself, on his intellectual and spiritual freedom, evoking in the sense of nausea. I experienced kind of similar situation. I became nauseous. In buddhism they have this concept called ’sunyata’. It’s sanskrit. It means ’nothingness’ or ’only self’. During that trip, I got so dwelled inside of that book, I too became nauseous. Because I realized that same kind of existential terror in me. Now it had some definition!The book and trip made that terror to shift inside of me from the main character. Now it was defined by words. And I was reading it. While tripping on this 24hour lasting research chemical, psychedelic amphetamine. Alone. Withdrawing from buprenorphine, all sweaty and cold. Nice.

To remove this awful terror of being lost in the world, I replaced and covered it by half-assing the sunyata concept of zen buddhism layered with some trippy junkie wisdom and feeding it so deep inside my own mind that it would be the dominant factor of my world-view ”from now on”. Only self. Nothing else. Even when I would look into other peoples eyes I would know that he/she isn’t real to me. There is only me left in the world and my conciousness. So now the laws of karma only affect me. Morality is relative, and I can take the backfiring of all my evil deeds. So my life mission was now to continue drug abuse and do all these shitty things while comforted by my class-A philosophical realization… As we know it really didn’t end well. Don’t mess with SUNYATA!

(…and with psychedelic amphetamines in the middle of night while taking a bath, listening to faithless and reading up some sartre)