Protected: LSD Heroic Dose Trip Report: Beauty and Heavenly Bliss, Dark Psychosis and Insanity

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Ecstasy

sexyforeplayblackandwhite[1].jpgThe kiss, playful and testing at first, then committing to penetration with the tongue. At first I feel surprise, but then dive in and the kiss turned full body as we drew our bodies closer and closer together. We were melting into each other. I was losing my breath, she was losing hers. It was awesome. Her wetting her lips in expectation and tilting her chin back saying “I want this”.

The grope. It was great to play with her erect and electrified nipples and to delicately squeeze her wonderful breasts. It was brilliant to watch her smile and see her look of bliss, to hear her lose breath, hide under the covers, let out little moans, lose control, all just by my love, my fingers and her trust. As she guided my hand beneath her shirt and held it there. All too much. All too good.

Her eye contact, the avoidance of her eye contact. Every now and then she would look at my face, then close her eyes and smile and turn away with a look that said “How did I get here? How did this happen? why did he pick me? How did I end up with this great guy holding me? Who is he?”. The fact that I was so comfortable gazing at her and taking her in while she felt overwhelmed by it in such a positive way.

Her face, hair, nose, lips, cheeks, eyes, eyebrows, eyelashes. Her sleeping head resting on my chest.

The little, honest comments I would drop which made her feel special made me feel brilliant, like I was the man. “You’re beautiful” I would whisper, staring into her eyes, and her face would light up as she closed her eyes and turned away, looking as if she was melting under intense love from the manliest man on the planet. The feeling of making a girl feel so special is wild. “You’re lovely”, “So are you”. The fact that she was speechless. “You… There are no words that describe you…”. I felt like The Shit. My love is indescribable? Well thank you lord!

Her attachment. “Don’t leave without me”. Her tracking us back to the flat. “Come have tea with us”. “Come to breakfast with us”. Her stream of text messages! How did I manage to make such an impression on her? If it is the love of God, I can’t stand to see it perverted. By this point, there was all too much pride…

Playing with her hair and hands. Having her draw on me. The physical trust.

“It could have been anyone” “but you’re the one who stole my phone”

“fine… enjoy your stoopid walk”
“Oh I will 😛 Until next time :)”
“Next time?”
“:)”
“…”
Silence

Alex Herlihy – 2014

The Riddle of the Universe

space-960x460[1].jpgI sublimate all that I hear, smell and feel.
Savour that taste which I see is not real,
Believe that by this, it all comes together
As Identity for now and forever.
The choices I make, the best I can be,
Both to myself and society,
Life, the universe and all are the same,
For I have met God, and absurd is his name.

And now my head is spinning round;
I fly up only to come plummeting down.
For the final Zenith of Absurdity
Is only a proud ode to Insanity.
As I fall under the gaze of eternity
I look back, and there’s nothing to see
Where is the truth? The Light? The life?
I’m cornered by sin, surrounded by strife

To dive down into deepest despair
Nothing makes sense, I’m gasping for air
Pulled down by my pride

A bible story
A man in the desert, Tempted by Satan
What does it mean?

Faith

Alex Herlihy – 2014

Dark Nostalgia

dark-dream-christiano-torres[1].jpg

Did you dream about me?
That’s all I am to most people now.
No address. No phone. No facebook.
Dimly remembered.
I recognise people from long long ago everyday and when they see me
It is strange strained stares that I draw. Stares that say
“Who are you?”
“How do I know you?”
“Why do I recognise you?”

I am dark nostalgia
Someone who sat before you and shared your torture,
Someone who knows how to speak your language,
Someone who remembers where you live, the bus you caught, the school you attended
Yet you still can’t quite place that presence of the past in the present.

And yet my face draws dazed recollections into your eyes
Your gaze swiftly averted
Fluttered heart breaking
You don’t remember me
The only explanation
You never knew me
The final answer
Did you dream…
One last hope –
About me?

Alex Herlihy – 2011

Juxtaposition

Abandoned-manor-fireplace-marbled-fireplace-distressed-leather-armoirs[1].jpgThe fire burned as an uncontrollable inferno, with raging tongues of flame flying and jumping; leaping on top of each other in order to touch the roof of the fireplace, before falling back to the source and dying. Only to be reincarnated in the red heat of the furnace, and fight their way up again.

“Shall we begin?”

Locus continued gazing into the fire. It appeared to be a furious beast; a red monster, enraged at its’ imprisonment in a prison that would – if not for the rage it revelled in – be stone cold. Its’ murderous eyes locked their focus straight on those of Locus. Locus’ eyes reflected the flames; the fire flickering and mixing with his thoughts.

“You can spend your whole life getting ready”

Locus blinked and casually drew his face away from the fireplace, turning his head back to its’ natural, more comfortable position. The figure sitting opposite was barely visible in the firelight. The outline of a body sinking back in a chair could be discerned, and Locus could just make out half a smile curling at the edge of this strange person’s lips. Locus could see his own eyes reflected in those of the figure; revealing that the firelight continued to reside in them, despite his having turned away from the flames.
The half-smile adorning the shadowy face parted as it spoke for the third time.

“Still seeing red?”

Locus tilted his head and smiled back.

“Still seeing red.”

The fire – despite its’ intensity – was nearly silent, and while it burned bright, pouring out more light than the sun, the room remained shrouded in shadows. Shadows that extended further and further into the distance, slowly approaching pitch black before finally melting into pure darkness. And in turn, this darkness ran back, flowing and folding in on itself, becoming more and more incomprehensibly obfuscated until it had transformed into an absolute void. The little light the fire cast into the room was an oasis of warmth in a desert of darkness; an island of illumination in an ocean of shadow.
This flickering firelight revealed a strange scene. Two large armchairs were arranged before the fire. Their size would be reason enough to call them thrones, but there was a distinct modesty in how they had been built. Locus sat in one chair; facing the cryptic person who occupied the other.
Placed between them was an unremarkable square table: Wooden, with four rounded legs, one for each corner. Its’ surface had been raised to knee height. In the middle of this table was a chess board; the pieces arranged and waiting. They were all undefined in the low light, and both the little armies appeared to be of the same colour.
The only other object occupying the table was an unlit candle – placed on the side of the chessboard furthest from the fireplace.

The mysterious man’s mouth morphed from a smile to a void as dark as the room they were sitting in as he spoke once again.

“It’s been a long time Locus.”

Locus’ face projected an expression of amusement over the chess board. “What is time?”
He looked out at the void, gesturing with his arms and hands toward the darkness. “What place does time take in a place like this? In here, there is no time.”

His companion chuckled and shook his head.
“Oh if only you knew…”

There was a brief pause, and for a moment only the quietly flickering fire could be heard. The shadowy figure leaned back in his chair, his face fading further into the shadows.
“Do you know who I am?”

“Does anyone?” Locus thought to himself. “Many people have devoted their lives to understanding eternity. You are the only one to succeed”

“God?” guessed Locus. “Who else could you be? Why else would I see what I see in that fire?”

“I suppose you could put it like that” Spoke the shadows. “But you know the real answer”

“No, I don’t really know who you are any more. I don’t know if I ever did”

Two eyes briefly shone through the darkness, glinting and glittering like stars before quickly fading away.

“Do you remember my name?”

The man leaned forward in his chair and for the first time was fully visible in the glow of the firelight. He wore a caring smile that told of pure trust and honesty, but his eyes remained unfathomable.

“I know those eyes…” Locus frowned.
“Aeternitatis”

The man – still smiling – nodded. “Well, that’s a start”

The candle on the table suddenly ignited: Throwing light upon the chess board and dramatically increasing the contrast between the illumination and the shadows.
Crossing his arms, Aeternitatis leaned back and nodded at the chessboard. Locus followed the gesture and looked down, examining the chess pieces in the light. The side closest to him was red, the side closest to Aeternitatis, white.

“Shall we begin?” asked Aeternitatis once again.

“Of course” said Locus. “Your move”

Aeternitatis extended his arm forward, and made the move a million chess masters swear by; the same stereotypical move that opens every game of chess. The white pawn before the white king, moved two spaces forward.
Locus glanced at his opponent. Aeternitatis was sitting back in his chair again, his eyes sparkling above a familiar half smile.
“I know what you’re thinking.” thought Locus. He had to meet the white pawn with a red one. Accept the invitation. Make the standard response.
His face was expressionless as he brought his hand down to the chess board, and moved a red pawn two spaces forward.
Aeternitatis tilted his head to the side slightly and gazed at Locus in amusement.
“You did always like to defy convention”

Locus smiled silently in response and turned his attention to the candle.

The candle didn’t flicker like the fireplace. It burned steadily, inflating a sphere of soft light like a balloon, filling the room with warmth. There was something magical about it. He saw the image of a woman reflected in the flame.

She was sitting on the bed, her slender legs dangling over the side, her skin appearing as soft as the light. The red glow of the candle was just bright enough to reveal the bed, her beautiful body, and her long, wonderful hair.
He stepped into the light and stood there, looking towards her with eyes full of care, compassion and Love. She hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I need to know how you’re going before you’ve gone you know”

Her face lit up as she realised who it was.

Alex Herlihy – 2010 (Unfinished and slighty edited)

An Insult

I use an external CPU for a paper weight.

I remember it quite clearly, it was in Year 8 or 9 (Well, maybe not so clearly) and we were all in the canteen at one of the tables, no one as far as I remember was sitting down. We all stood around, preparing to move at any moment, merely letting our bags rest on the table to relieve our backs.
Scott had obtained a copy of the latest Artemis Fowl book, it may have been his Birthday come to think of it. I did not know of the existence of a new Artemis Fowl book and expressed my interest.
In the same way that memories are made memorable by strong emotions, they can also become corrupt and vague.
At my expression of interest, or shortly after, Scott remarked “You don’t seem like the sort of person who reads a lot of books” or “You don’t come across as reading a lot of books” or something to that effect. I wish I could recall the exact wording.
I was so incredulously offended by this statement that I broke down into hysterical, disbelieving laughter. I kept repeating myself as I didn’t know how to respond or how to put into words that which I wanted to say. I said things like “What? You’ve hurt me Scott” and “That is the most offensive thing I’ve ever been told” all while wearing a mad grin, a crazy expression and losing my breath to laughter.
Scott wore that innocent, confused, amused, slightly slack-jawed look which came to him so naturally in those days. Probably because he didn’t know how to react to my ignorance of how to respond.
He may have asked “Have you taken your pills today Herlihy?” or maybe someone else did, I vaguely remember Ranga coming and watching another hilarious show of Herlihy Hysterics, Ba doing his eyebrow equivalent of a joking facepalm, the bell going, everyone moving off, and me just standing there feeling as if I had suffered an acid trip.
I was so offended, no-one had hurt me that much for a long time, if ever. At the time I was incredulous that such a thing could be said to me, as I look back I am incredulous that I responded to such an insult in the way that I did.
Perhaps it was because I was struck more by disbelief than rage. Even then I had a well developed sense of absurdity, and was quite immune to personal insults.
The world is a comedy for those who think, and a tragedy for those who feel. Mum always said I have no heart, and I always hated and ignored her words. But looking back, I can heartily accept that she was right the whole time.

Alex Herlihy – 2010

A Dance

rsz_a1-5-740x555[1].jpg

Walking, talking,
Rushing off in excitement and me not pursuing.
A cross between a train station, my year nine camp accommodation sleeping quarters, and the bubblers outside at my primary school.
I let you go,
Head inside to the hall, meet people,
Talk to a troll for some reason that escapes me.
The troll provides some bogan philosophy,
I head back out,
try to find you,
looking through walls windows and mirrors,
they’re all the same anyway,
find you,
your face is just as happy as before,
but it has a falseness about it which I don’t know if it was there the whole time and I just didn’t notice or it is a new development.
I ask what is wrong, you say “nothing” and are so sincere.
You aren’t even acting; you ARE sincere,
and yet I know you are false.
“Alright… but just in case, I want to hug you to make sure”.
She does and falls asleep;

You slept with your head on my shoulder and your arms and legs wrapped around me.
As tall as me, and only a little younger, yet you were lighter than a feather,
and I held you as I would hold my one year old sister.

I walked and the world moved around us in a way that didn’t match up with how my legs were telling it to move.
Down the middle of a busy street,
across crossings that were lacking lights and painted stripes,
one second, or five, or a minute no cars, the next one hundred.
I moved out of their way, understanding the danger, but not feeling it.
Too calm, and you slept as if nothing at all were happening.

The scene changed to become more grassy,
and you flickered in and out of existence on my shoulder.
I carried you across the suburban Noork’s elbow.
Street, turned to bridge,
bridge over train tracks,
and before I had even stepped onto the bend, you had disappeared,
I forgot all about you, and the dream flowed on into the morning.

Only when my eyes open did I remember that,
and realise what a strange,
amazing dance we had just performed.

But you’ll never remember it.

The last message I received from you was sent before our dance, but only received after;
Dream about cruise ships and ball pit rooms.
Usually you are there, always there in case I need you. But not today.
I don’t remember my dance involving any juggling.
It wasn’t a dance of love, sadness, joy, happiness. It wasn’t a dance of the night, it wasn’t a dance of the morning, it wasn’t a dance of light, or of the moon falling. No guns were firing no swords were drawn, it wasn’t a dance of bullets or skin torn.
No words were said, but it was no dance of silence.
In simplicity lies beauty and perfection.
It was a pure dance, no more.
I dreamt of the cruise ship, but not the ball pit.
I dreamt a dance, we danced a dance,
And you’ll never remember it.
In simplicity lies beauty and perfection.
To walk while the world runs?
It was a pure dance, no more.
And you’ll never remember it.

Alex Herlihy – 2010 (Mildly edited)