When I look back on it, this weekend was one of the best weekends of my life. All of us had an amazing time. We were connected. Doing MDMA together probably helped. We all really found out how much we cared about each other. We were right on Hunter Mountain, shacking up in a log cabin that had two separate floors, but we were all crammed into one of them. It was like one big happy family. I wanted to touch everyone and be touched by everyone at the same time (entactogenic). We were in tune with each other. We could call each other without words (telepathy) and understand thoughts without uttering a sound. Our presence was enough to comprehend where we each were. Shpongle into Younger Brother will probably be etched into my mind for eternity. The beats, the grooves, the dancing, the people around me, the complete empathy I felt for everyone I locked eyes with. The vibe of the entire festival (Camp Bisco) was amazing. Anytime I saw friends, we felt the overwhelming need to hug each other. I can never thank them enough for that. I still have the lingering effects of the MDMA in my system, and that's a good thing considering the considerable change it's had on my overall mood. It would be nice to feel like this for the rest of my life, which would be unsustainable with drugs, but without, why not? I want to be hit in the face by someone, look and smile at them, and just put my hand on their shoulder in a moment of solidarity. I want them to understand that I'm human, they're human, and that's all that matters. I love them.
Everyone I was with, I have this undeniable, almost magnetic urge to call them up to make sure they are all right. The after-effects of MDMA are not fun to deal with. In order to achieve that extreme high, your brain is so overstimulated that you have to expect the depression afterward. What goes up must come down. When you mess with your neurotransmitters and all the chemicals in your brain, there have to be ill side effects. We would be robots if we could just alter our state to a different consciousness and then seamlessly go back to normal consciousness. MDMA might rank as my favorite drug now, speaking only about while on the drug, not its after-effects. I want everyone to know that I'm there for them and that I want to be there for them, and I need them there for me. During this heightened state, it became easier to see the inevitable split with the person I'd still been calling my girlfriend (for reasons I can't explain). I have to come to terms with the fact that it's over. The dream of getting married, having children, and living our lives together is slowly leaving me. It's still emotionally overwhelming and makes me cry. She still means so much, and I don't understand why she has no connection with me.
I was told I was being 'different' when on MDMA. I wasn't being "me." She felt nothing with me. She doesn't feel anything when I'm around. That devastates my ego but necessary words. I think splitting is the right thing to do, but then I think about things like talking to my grandmother. I don't want her to deal with that. She doesn't need to feel my pain. She has her own thoughts to deal with, but at the same time, I've been so disconnected. It's killing me on the inside. It's part of the reason I lost her, isn't it? My lack of faith in my own family... It's probably so disheartening for her to see that. She probably thinks I'll be able to do that to "our" family if we were to have one. It's a life lesson that I'm still learning.
While dancing, I felt in total control of all my movements, in control of the sound waves surrounding my body, and in unison with all those around me. Someone told me to face my palms towards the music, and it totally changed everything. The music was channeling through my fingers and sending my whole body into a fit of musical embodiment. The music was flowing through my nose, to my feet, and then I would breathe out and let everything out, hoping others could benefit from my ecstatic energy, which was now transfixed with this musical force pumping through the discotheque. At one point, I floated by another friend and was hit by this wall of energy that I kind of just danced through, and he said, "I felt this really strong connection," and I said back to him, "Of course, I felt that," because our energetic fields bumped and united as one. We started to understand each other a lot better. I recognized that we never touched each other. No hand slaps, no hugs, nothing for our entire lives. We were missing out on an essential part of our beings. So close, yet we strove to be apart from each other. I don't want to let that happen again. We can make it through if we stick together.
I want to make sure they understand life the same way I'm beginning to understand it. I want them to see me cry so they understand it's alright to let their feelings pour out of their eyes. It's okay to be emotional. It's okay to feel confused. But once you start bottling things up, once you start sinking into yourself, and once you begin to lose touch with who you are, you also lose touch with everyone around you. That's when you can start to lose faith, lose focus on life, self-destruct, and throw everything away around you. That's what I want others to avoid.
